“And you can’t make everybody happy,” Orbin inserted. “I know exactly how it is.”
Jim nodded. “I try to make the right call, but I have to stay true to myself too. I have to stick by my own values. It may be ‘safest’ to go along with what the government asks us to do, but is it really? I’m willing to compromise, but I won’t give up my freedoms. Not everyone agrees with that. Some are more than willing to give up freedom for comfort. They like being taken care of. That’s one of the ways we’ve changed as a society. Independence no longer seems to be important to some people, but it’s everything to others. It’s everything to me.”
Orbin grinned. “You know, I ain’t the oldest son-of-a-bitch in this valley but I’m a member of that club. And though I ain’t bound to a rocking chair yet, I may not be far from it. If I’ve learned one thing in my life it’s that most people act out of fear. When I look back on every bad decision in my life, that’s where it came from. Fear of missing out, fear of losing someone or something, fear of getting my ass kicked, or even fear of getting my heart hurt. Fear is the worst reason to do anything.”
Jim took a bite of cornbread salad, something he hadn’t had in years. “Sometimes I struggle with that. I fear I’m doing the wrong thing and I’m going to get people I love killed.”
Orbin pondered that for a moment. “I don’t consider that to be fear exactly. I consider that to be the mark of a responsible person. You’re acting out of concern for others. To me, acting out of fear is acting from weakness. It’s action based on the assumption that you don’t have what it takes to get control of the situation. It’s action based on your shortcomings rather than your strengths.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do. For example, when we saw you on the road this evening, some of those young ones thought we should take a shot at you to run you off. To keep you moving along.”
Jim laughed. “I halfway expected that.”
“They were speaking out of fear. They didn’t recognize you. My position is that you have to give a man a chance to prove he’s bad before you go that far. You can always shoot him later if it comes to that.” The look in Orbin’s eyes showed he wasn’t joking. He was deadly serious. “That’s why you always have to fear the old, experienced man. By the time he decides to kill you, there ain’t no changing his mind. The matter is settled.”
Jim smiled at that. “There was an older man in the valley where I lived who was a big influence on me. His name was Buddy and he was a good man. He got killed for his horse. I miss having him around. It was helpful to be able to talk things out with him. He kept me pointed in the right direction.”
“I’m sure it’s a long ride, but you’re welcome to swing by and jaw a spell whenever you feel like it, although I might put you to work when you’re here.”
Jim laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any different.”
“Seriously though, that’s something I miss about the time I grew up in. A man had older men around to help guide him. I assume women had the same thing but I never paid no mind to that. I had grandpas around. There were uncles and great-uncles. There were old men who lived in the valley here. You saw those old men all the time and they asked you questions about your life. They helped keep you pointed in the right direction.”
“I didn’t have much of that growing up,” Jim admitted. “Don’t have any of it now.”
Orbin nodded as if this proved his point. “Makes things harder, doesn’t it? If you go it alone, all you have is the school of hard knocks to keep you straight and that’s a rough ride.”
“Tell me about it. I know all about learning from mistakes.”
“At least you’re learning, son, and you care about learning. That’s important. Many folks these days are more concerned with being right than becoming better people. They don’t grow and change. They get some crazy idea in their head and then find something on the internet that validates it for them. Then they never have to grow, you see? They never have to get better. The truth is that you’re never perfect just the way you are, no matter what the internet says. You should always be working toward being better. By the time you’re old, like me, you’ll be damn near perfect.” Orbin let out a huge laugh and patted Jim on the back.
“Hey, Orbin!” Frannie was in the barn door, beckoning her husband. “Honey, you got to see this. Lloyd has all these kids out here flat-footing.”
Orbin pushed up from the bench. “Let’s go see the show.”
Jim came along politely, not wanting to admit he’d seen enough banjo playing to last him a lifetime. Outside, the music was in full swing. Lloyd was in his element, his felt hat pulled down to his ears. He was dancing and pounding out The Banjo Am The Instrument For Me. The children were clogging, flat-footing, and square dancing all at the same time, feet and legs flying. There were smiles around the fire and as much happiness as Jim had seen in some time. He was glad to see it. Glad to know it still existed out there in the world.
When the song came to an end, Lloyd doffed his hat and bowed as clapping hands and cheers filled the night. This was what Lloyd needed more than the food and a roof over his head. This was what was important to him. Without pause, he launched into Little Liza Jane.
Jim stepped away from the fire and stared out into the dark valley around him. The sound of insects and frogs was like the clapping of hands. The outlines of the high ridges were visible against the night sky. Music echoed in the vast spaces. From nowhere, Jim felt the cold hand of loneliness plunge into his chest and twist at his heart.
Whatever his family was doing tonight, he couldn’t imagine they were smiling as widely and laughing as freely. They would likely be feeling his absence as strongly as he felt theirs. Talking with Orbin tonight had only reaffirmed the conclusions he’d already come to. He needed to get home to his family. His absence was not the way to keep them safer. He knew that now with a certainty as powerful as the stars above him.
36
Jim’s Valley
“What’s wrong with you, dude?”
Pete had been quiet all evening and Charlie knew something was up. The two hung out every day and were fairly tuned-in to the other’s moods. Pete wasn’t his normal laid-back self. Something had to be bothering him.
Pete shook his head and kept walking. “Nothing.”
Charlie wasn’t having it. “You were quiet all the way home and you haven’t said shit since we got back. I might as well be working by myself.”
As soon as they’d come back from the farmer’s market they’d distributed the goodies they bought, then set out to check their fishing lines. They’d been setting out branch lines in the river that ran through the valley and had good luck with them. The technique involved tying a short length of baited fishing line to a tree branch and dropping it into the river. They had dozens of lines out and had been catching fish every day without having to waste time standing on the bank. This method of fishing usually didn’t kill the fish either, so they could unhook it and toss it back if it wasn’t something they wanted.
They were each carrying a five-gallon bucket about half full of water. It was enough to keep the fish alive until they could get home with them. So far they had a few rainbow trout and a rock bass, known locally as a “redeye”. They’d tossed back two suckers and an overgrown goldfish that must have started out in someone’s decorative pond.
They wouldn’t eat the fish immediately. They’d converted an old watering trough into a holding tank for fish. Cold creek water constantly ran through the tank, keeping the fish alive until someone was ready to eat them. The tank was a recent project, something Jim had put together before he left on his trip.
“Did something happen in town?” Charlie asked. “Is that why you’re not talking?”
“Man, you were with me the whole time? What could have happened?”
“Not when you went to pick up the horses. You did that alone.”
Pete hesitated just a second too long and Charlie caught it. The two knew each othe
r pretty well by this point. Hiding anything from each other was about impossible.
“Was it that punk, Duane?” Charlie asked. “Was he being an asshole? He seems like the type.”
“No one did anything.”
“Did he say something?”
“No,” Pete finally admitted. “Not Duane, anyway.”
“Someone else? Who?”
Pete stopped and set down his bucket. He faced Charlie. He might as well tell him what happened or he’d never shut up. “Duane’s dad, Willie, said that Duane told him who I was. Who my father was. When I went back to get the horses, he was a jerk. He started giving me a bunch of shit about us being at the market. He said all these people were suffering because of my dad and if I came back there again he’d tell everyone who I was. He said they’d probably kill me right there on the spot. Then he started going on about whether my dad was even dead or not.”
“Damn, I knew something happened.” Charlie opened his arms in a gesture of incredulity. “Why the hell didn’t you say something? Randi would have taken him apart.”
“Dude, if he told that crowd who we were they might have turned on us. He was probably right about that. They might have rushed us and we wouldn’t have had a chance.”
“We would have had a chance. We have guns and we know how to use them. We’d have been outnumbered, but we’d have still had a chance.”
“They’d have killed us. The whole town hates my dad. They hate all of us.”
Charlie waved off his concerns. “I think you’re worried about nothing.”
Pete didn’t see it that way. His voice rose higher and the words came faster. He was anxious, scared. “You don’t know what it’s like, man. When my dad was here, my mom was constantly worried that someone was going to figure out he was still alive. Now he’s gone and she’s terrified he’s never coming back. There’s no peace for us, no way this is ever going to get better. And when I was finally having a good day, when it was finally out of my head for one minute, I run into some stupid asshole like Willie who threatens to make things worse. That’s the last thing we need.”
Charlie gave him a serious look. “You’re right, Pete. I don’t know what that’s like anymore because I lost everyone. My entire family is dead.”
Pete instantly felt like crap. “Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s not the same, but you have a new family now. We’re your family. You and I are brothers.” Pete picked up his bucket and started walking again. He felt like shit now. His best friend had tried to help him and he’d said the wrong thing. Now Charlie probably hated him too.
Charlie hurried for a few steps and fell in alongside his friend, throwing his arm over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about this, Pete. We are family and I’ll do everything I can to help protect you guys. That’s what family does.”
“I’m sorry I said that you didn’t know what it was like,” Pete said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s no big deal, buddy. That was my old life. The past. I have a new life now. We all do.”
Pete couldn’t respond. Words failed him. He focused on the ground as he walked, his face red and his eyes filling with tears. He couldn’t be certain if it was anxiety, sadness, or anger. Perhaps it was just the onrush of all those confusing emotions overloading his circuitry.
Charlie’s mind was elsewhere. These people were his family. They’d taken him in when he’d had nothing, when he’d thought all was lost. Now he was part of something. Whether you wanted to call it a community, a tribe, or a family, he was part of it. They respected him and treated him like he was one of them. Like he was their blood. He’d do anything he could to protect them.
Anything.
37
Jim’s Valley
Some nights Pete and Charlie camped out, sleeping in the barn, the woods, or one of the outposts. The two were perhaps the most well-adapted to current conditions, almost enjoying the return to a simpler bygone era. They liked living closer to the land and providing for their families. They enjoyed the time spent outdoors, even when the conditions were less than pleasant. They’d done a lot of camping out this summer, but some nights they stayed in homes with their families. Although everyone was concerned they might be getting too feral, neither boy was concerned about that. It was a badge of honor to them. They cherished their wildness.
With Jim gone, Pete’s mom wanted him around more. Even with Hugh keeping an eye on things, Ellen liked the comfort of having her son there. She needed his presence. Randi often felt the same way about Charlie. With Lloyd gone, she’d been moody. Having Charlie there was a break in the routine and it pulled her out of her shell. Her daughters were also very appreciative of Charlie’s presence since it meant they didn’t have to deal with their mother’s funk. Randi was the epitome of If Mama ain’t happy, nobody’s happy.
After dumping their buckets of fish into the holding tank, the boys said their goodbyes and split up for the evening. Pete stayed at his own house to help Pops with their garden, while Nana, Ellen, and Ariel were canning. Charlie went to Randi’s, certain she had something for him to do around the house. Pete would sleep at home with his family that night, while Charlie would sleep on his familiar cot at Randi’s house. They made plans to get together after breakfast the next day and spend the morning cutting firewood.
That night at Randi’s house they all played a board game by lantern light until everyone’s eyelids were drooping. The long days of working in the garden had everyone exhausted by sundown. Most folks were on a dawn-to-dusk workday now and fell asleep shortly after the sunset. They had to maximize daylight while they had it and get everything done that they could. They had no promise of food for the winter beyond what they grew and stored now. There were no conveniences in their lives anymore. Everything came by the sweat of their brow, by blisters and aching muscles.
Randi’s daughters wandered off to get the children to sleep. Randi was already yawning and sinking deeper into the couch.
“You might as well go to bed,” Charlie said. “I won’t be far behind you.”
Randi gave a weary smile. “I was just enjoying the company.”
Charlie laughed. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I ain’t no company at all. I’m barely even awake.”
Randi rolled forward on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. She pushed herself to her feet, moaning and groaning as sore muscles protested. “I’ll be glad when these gardens are done.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Charlie said. “Something else will come along to take all your time. That’s how it works. You’ll be sewing or making Christmas presents or something.”
Randi gave him a wry look. “You’re full of positive energy. Remind me of why I like having you around?”
“No idea,” Charlie laughed. “Been wondering that myself.”
Randi leaned over and hugged him. She tried to do it every time the opportunity presented itself. She’d made a promise after Alice’s death that she’d care for the boy and show him love. She’d try to hug him every day since his mother couldn’t.
Charlie hugged her back, then headed toward the old laundry room, which he’d adopted as a bedroom. Randi turned off the lantern in the living room as he closed the laundry room door behind him. They’d moved the appliances out onto the back porch to give him more room since they didn’t work anyway. He took a seat on his cot and listened as Randi walked to her room. He heard her shut the door softly so she wouldn’t disturb her grandchildren.
He sat there in the dark for a long time. In the time he’d spent in this house, Charlie had learned the habits of this family. He knew that the young children exhausted Randi’s daughters. They would fall asleep quickly. Randi would lay there in bed for a few minutes and then she’d be asleep too. Being exhausted when you went to bed was a good thing, helping to counteract the lack of air conditioning in the houses.
When he was certain they were asleep, Charlie slipped off his boots and stood. He slung his pack onto
his back and crept out onto the back porch. He carried his boots in one hand and his rifle in the other. He closed the door but left it unlocked. He hoped to get back in time to catch a few hours of sleep, otherwise it was going to be a long day tomorrow.
Their old black dog sniffed at the air and thumped its tail on the floorboards of the porch.
“It’s just me,” Charlie whispered. “Good dog.”
The dog settled back onto the old couch cushion that served as a bed. Charlie sat down on the steps and pulled his boots back on. The moon wasn’t full but it was bright enough to help a man familiar with where he was going. He headed out into the fields, staying to the back of the house. He didn’t want to walk by Randi’s open window in case she was awake. The last thing he needed was someone screaming or taking a shot at him.
A safe distance away, he turned and intersected the trail to Jim’s house. He didn’t dare take a horse this time of night. It would make too much noise, both here and where he was going. He had to make this trip on foot. Because of that, he was going to take the shortest route, which was the old farm road that crossed the river. It was the only way they had into town until the Wimmers rebuilt the bridge.
Near Jim’s place, Charlie cut away from the trail to avoid getting too close to the house. There were too many people there to take a chance on waking someone up. Plus Hugh was staying there now, sleeping in Jim’s shop, and he kept odd hours. He was probably still awake and sitting out there in the dark somewhere like an owl. Charlie idolized the guy but no one ever knew where he was going to pop up. He was spooky like that, always skulking around in the darkness, keeping an eye on things.
Once past Jim’s house, Charlie picked up the pace and began jogging. He was wound up and the activity might help burn off some nervous energy. This part of the valley, the trail to the river, had no houses anywhere close by. He didn’t feel like he had to be on guard here. The chances of running into anyone were pretty slim.
The Borrowed World Series | Book 8 | Blood & Banjos Page 23
