Joshua slid back to where he was told and noting he could now see nothing, stared up at the man, the only thing left for him to see.
He stood at the top of the hill in plain view, the man holding his rifle over his head. “HELLO! HELLO!”
The small group immediately heard him and dropped from their horses. Then, in an obviously well-rehearsed movement, two held the horses while the other two brought their rifles to bear.
The man hoped to defuse this before any shooting started. “HELLO! WE’RE FRIENDLY! WE DON’T WANT TROUBLE!”
After nearly a minute of unpleasant silence the lone man in the group appeared from behind his horse, a white rag tied to his own rifle now over his head. “OKAY … COME ON DOWN IF YOU WANT TO TALK!”
The man crouched down, put back on his gear and then grabbed the boy by his arm and lifted him up. “All right Joshua. Try to stay close … and if I tell you to run away, you run. Understand?”
The child fearfully nodded.
“Come on. It’ll be okay, they look friendly.”
The man came over the hill and down the other side holding the child by the hand. The four of them watched unbelieving and after a few minutes walking they were now within casual talking distance.
He introduced himself and the child with him after putting his rifle back on his shoulder. He then told them he only wanted to do some trading if at all possible.
With that they too put their rifles back on their shoulders and came around the cover of their horses. Then they greeted the two.
The horseman introduced them all, he was Jack Roselli, and then there was his wife Emily and their daughters, Sofia and Michelle.
The man noticed that Jack and his wife were just a few years younger than him, somewhere around forty or so. The two daughters were in their later teens and weren’t too far from children themselves.
Jack was tall and slender and had loose folds of skin hanging from his neck and upper arms. The man knew what it was the instant he saw him as he had already seen it quite often in the last few years. In a different life Jack had been grossly overweight but it then melted away when all the food was gone, another obese American that suddenly found himself on a crash diet.
His two daughters looked just like their mother and with the exception of a few more wrinkles you might have sworn they were all sisters.
They were all fit and tanned and looked like they spent much of their time working out in the open. They all had handmade clothes, sensible and worn with a purpose, and aside from their store bought boots he didn’t see a machine stitch between the four. The three ladies all had full-length skirts and wore large bonnets that kept the sun off of them. Jack had a straw hat for the very same reason. All of their faces appeared a few shades lighter than the golden brown of their toned forearms.
Jack explained they had a farm and raised horses on a “good-sized” plot of land about forty miles southeast from where they were. Right now they were traveling to O’Neill to sell or trade some excess stock.
On the last weekend of every even month the town had a “Community Fair” where people would come from all over to buy, sell or trade. Jack then offered the man and boy a ride and told them whatever they needed could surely be found there.
After stretching out a blanket on one of the extra horses, the man and boy had a ride of their own. Following along in the procession as it slowly went to town, the man tried to look like he knew what he was doing. It had been many years since he rode one. Fortunately, this one was tied to Sofia’s and all the man had to do was concentrate on keeping him and the boy on it.
The boy was having a grand time, these were the first horses he ever saw up close and bouncing along on one was a new exciting adventure.
Jack informed them they would arrive late in the day, but it wouldn’t open until the next morning.
Towards evening they finally arrived on the outskirts of the fair and it was a wonder to behold. The man guessed there had to be close to a thousand people there already. Most had walked there but many used bikes and horses to get here too. Even a truck or two! There were hundreds of people walking around, talking, laughing, meeting old friends and making new ones.
When they arrived, Jack and his family said their good-byes. He told the man and boy they were staying with a nearby family and couldn’t invite them along. He said they could camp right next to the site and would be perfectly safe. The town had its own deputies that patrolled all night and over the last two years had grown quite the reputation. The Rosellis would be leaving tomorrow when their trading was done and from the size of the crowds Jack doubt they would see them inside.
As they all shook hands and said their farewells, the man thought of it a moment, another new set of friends that he or the boy would never see again.
The site for the swap meet was a small industrial park just north of town and when the man first saw it he instantly knew why the location was chosen. It was a large paved lot completely enclosed by an eight-foot-tall chain-link fence on three sides. On the north side of the lot stood the collapsed shell of an industrial building and from the look of it appeared only a few years old when the end came. What was left of the building was only good as a wall as it had been looted and gutted by fire a long time ago. But it was the large open parking lot that seemed tailor-made for the purpose.
There were several gates that had been permanently closed with a torch, leaving a single opening on the south end of the lot. It was about two cars wide and was blocked by two long folding tables where people were taking admission and selling vendor sections. Vendors were allowed to set up their tables and sleep inside that night. But for everyone else on both sides of the paved lot were two large open fields that had been freshly mowed. Staked in the ground by each lot was a large handmade sign that read “FREE CAMPING” and beside it another, “PLEASE HELP KEEP OUR CITY CLEAN – PLEASE PICK UP AFTER YOURSELVES.”
Although it was already crowded, the man found them a spot only eighty feet from the gate, a small plot of ground just big enough for their gear and for the two to stretch out.
After an uneventful and thoroughly restful night, the man found himself abruptly awakened by the excited child. He wondered if this was what his own father experienced every Christmas morning for the first twelve years of his young life. “Come on! Get up! They’ve opened! Get up!”
With a short stop at a provided outhouse and a few minutes to clean up, it was time for the fair. As they waited in line the man didn’t want to carry his rifle and gear around all day but didn’t know what to do. The solution came to him as they approached the front gate. The answer was just outside, behind a separate partitioned fence and complete with three armed deputies and a sign that read, “YOUR VALUABLES ARE COMPLETELY SAFE WITH US – ALL DAY STORAGE FOR ONLY ONE SILVER DIME.” Although the man thought it expensive, it also seemed worth the cost not to have to drag everything he owned around with him. The man paid their price, assured with the knowledge that their valuables were safe as long as he came back to get them before the sun went down.
After paying admission of another dime, the man and boy passed through the front gate and finally got to see what was inside. They both stood there in shock of it all. What seemed like endless row after row of things for sale, nearly anything one wanted! Many sellers had their products sitting right on the ground with a blanket or two as an improvised table. Other more experienced sellers had real tables, folding or the kitchen variety, the merchandise all carefully arranged in some order known only to the owner. Some sellers sat right on the ground with their goods, others had folding chairs and the man noticed one even brought his own recliner. There were hundreds of people milling about, elbow to elbow, talking and “window shopping” and just enjoying the show.
Then there were the signs, everywhere one looked you could see another, all hand written and describing either a want or a got. Some of the signs were by vendors with many more carried by shoppers, but it seemed everyone was seeking or selling a
treasure of some kind.
More common were the “wanted” signs and anything you might imagine was being searched for by someone at the fair. The majority of signs were for ammunition of particular calibers or alcohol, both drinking and medicinal, sugar, tobacco or cigarettes, and coffee in any form was especially wanted too.
The man was somewhat surprised by the latter as he never was a big coffee drinker and hadn’t considered how much it would be missed by the masses. He thought how if he had only known then, as now just five pounds could buy everything at the fair that he or the boy wanted, with change left over. There were many other items wanted that caught the man’s eye, among them rechargeable batteries and the chargers, quality shoes or boots, shoelaces, canning jars and insecticide.
But the strangest signs the man found were those looking for mates or arranged marriages of some kind. One young man he saw among the crowd several times had large signs hanging from his chest and back. “WANTED GOOD WIFE – Christian - 30 – In good health - Seeking the same for lifelong marriage and children. Have productive farm and looking for good woman to raise crops and a family. Don’t be bashful, come up and talk.” The man did think it a curious way to find a mate but still wished the younger man good luck.
Amongst the tables vendors were buying, selling or trading left and right. While bartering was most definitely possible, if you had what they wanted, most also took cash in the form of common ammunition and silver. Some also took gold but not as many as he thought. With those three items the man found you could buy just about anything you liked.
Then there was the food! Food everywhere and every kind! When they first went in the man bought them both breakfast, two huge handmade bran muffins baked that very morning. As they made their way through nearly every other table had something delicious, everything from meat to numerous kinds of treats. Chickens and rabbits appeared the most popular and you could buy them so fresh they were still breathing or cooked just about any way you could imagine. Although sweets made with sugar were not very common, others made with honey or sorghum could still be found. Later that morning he bought them a half dozen cookies, the total cost two .22 rounds.
As for firearms, there wasn’t anywhere near what the man thought there would be, it seemed most were hanging on to their guns. Every few tables you would see an odd one in a long forgotten caliber. Usually a package deal, some antiquated old gun and a half box of tarnished ammo that had been sitting in some farmer’s closet fifty years or more.
Throughout it all the man moved from table to table, slowly checking each one not to miss anything important. The boy stood closely by him never getting too far from his side.
Finally they arrived at a table of interest to the man. Even at a distance he could already see several items that might be needed and also a placard that said the seller took both silver and ammo. Studying the vendor’s table he also noticed some of his more valuable items laid on a blanket on the ground behind it.
“Joshua, I’m going behind this table a minute. You stay right there, okay?”
The boy just watched him, nervously nodding.
After studying the merchant’s goods, he stood again and noticed Joshua with the backdrop of the crowd behind him, the people all mingling about, many openly gaping at the small boy.
Abruptly the man was forced to remember what he tried to forget so many times before. That in this new world small children like Joshua were a rarity hardly seen anymore. The man was saddened as he thought about it. Now you seldom saw an adult over seventy or children under ten. He didn’t really want to think about where all of them had gone.
He excused himself from the vendor’s tables and returned to the child, the boy spinning around, anxiously aware of all those stares weighing him down.
“Joshua, you okay?”
The child just looked up at him with his troubled eyes, the man not sure if he would start crying or not.
“Joshua, are you okay?”
“They won’t stop looking at me.”
The man didn’t think this the best time or place for the conversation, as if he had a choice in the matter. “I know, but we’ve talked about this before. Remember?”
“Yes, but they won’t stop looking at me.”
“They don’t mean anything. It’s just that people don’t see little boys … or girls much anymore. Remember that other time? How I told you to just ignore them?”
“Yes … but they won’t stop looking at me.”
“I know Joshua, but can you try?”
“I guess … can we go?”
“It’ll be a while longer, there’s still some things I need. Until then I just want you to not to think about it. Put it out of your mind. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay …”
“And after I buy what we need, we might … might have enough money left over for a toy.”
The child’s sad eyes suddenly lit up as another happier thought took over his mind.
“Another thing Joshua, you don’t have to follow me so close. You’re not a little baby anymore. You don’t have to stand right next to me. Just stay in sight.”
By early afternoon they were over two thirds through and still the man hadn’t found one thing on his list, or at least one he could afford. But as they approached the next seller he could already see this new table was full of the type of items he was searching for.
As he perused this new table, he immediately saw one item he most definitely needed, a small skinning knife to replace the one he let go. The man pointed out the knife and asked permission to see it. The weary looking merchant at long last grumbled a reluctant yes.
He suspected the seller was in his mid or late fifties but his entire manner carried the look of an overindulgence in heartbreak and tragedy that made him appear much older than his years. His well-worn face was a revealing map of deep cracks and crevices, each one undoubtedly a misfortune of some kind. The left side of his face was hollowed and it appeared most of his teeth on that side were missing. Those that remained all looked rotten and would soon be joining the others, wherever they had gone. His third and fourth fingers on his left hand were cleanly gone at the palm which only reminded the man of his own missing finger and the drama of it all. The man really wanted to ask him about it but couldn’t. He wouldn’t want to cause any painful memories for the gruff older man. Besides, he had heard numerous variations on that same story, many times before.
As he stood there looking over his intended purchase the tired looking fellow couldn’t help but remind him of that tired old joke, “Sign posted on telephone pole – Looking for dog, blind in one eye, tail broken, missing back left leg, neutered, answers to the name of Lucky.” The man softly laughed but did feel appropriately bad about it as he did.
The boy stood next to the man but found nothing on this table that held his attention. Without delay, he began moving to the next set of tables, and hopefully that one alluring thing he couldn’t live without.
He briefly brought his eyes up, checking on the boy, “Joshua, not too far …”
The child stopped, obedient, but now quite unhappy with his very short leash.
The man went back to carefully examining the knife and after a moment put it back, filling in the hole in the seller’s flawless display. “Thanks.”
As he waited, the child noticed a tall box on the ground next to him. The box appeared full of toys, trinkets and games and any number of interesting items that appealed to his inquisitive mind. He remembered the almost promise the man just made and at once began curiously digging through the box.
The man looked up from the table again checking on the boy. “Joshua stay out of that, that’s not yours. You know better.”
The caught child immediately paused and guiltily turned to face the man, but now all he could think of was the box, he had to know what was in it. He couldn’t stand not knowing. After brooding over it for a few moments, all he could think to do was give his most practiced sad look.
The m
an continued to watch the boy who was now wearing his best miserable expression and thought he could probably spare a dime, or maybe a few more .22s. “How much is the stuff in the box?”
With that one simple question the tired old man came alive. “That box? That’s my free box. Buy any item from here …” the vendor animatedly gesturing to his best and most expensive merchandise, all painstakingly arranged on the table in front of him, “and you get a free item from there!” By the sound of his words you would have thought the merchant was giving away gold.
The vendor’s smooth pitch had the boy’s ears perked up and he stood there hoping against all hopes that the man would buy something, anything.
The man thought about it and once again picked up the knife. With some more consideration, he looked back to the boy. “All right Joshua, you can pick out one item.” The man holding up a lonely index finger to make sure he made his point.
Let loose once more the boy began rummaging through the box again looking for some hidden treasure. Without much searching he found it there looking up at him from the bottom. Another tiny space soldier not too unlike the one he already had but with one exciting difference, this soldier had wings, a flying tiny space soldier!
As he admired his new toy the boy heard words behind him and they came to him in a soft and utterly feminine voice.
“Hey cutie!”
The boy turned around to see her standing there. She was a tall, beautiful and lean, and entirely unlike any other woman he had ever seen or known. The boy continued looking up at her, unable to find any words, the child helplessly drawn to the intriguing foreign form.
“You are a cutie, did you know that?” She stood there over the boy, playfully toying with her long and lustrous coal black hair.
The child just looked up at her wide-eyed and astonished. He had never seen a woman act or dress like this before and found himself frozen in the gaze of her flawless emerald eyes. Mutely standing there he couldn’t help but stare at her, even though he knew he shouldn’t, but was unable to stop himself as all of this was new and thrilling to his child mind.
Joshua (Book 1) Page 28
