The guests stuck around for a long time, getting to know Sharon and the children. That went a long way toward making Sharon feel more comfortable about their new situation. These were good people, apparently willing to do anything they could to help them get by. Sharon couldn’t have asked for anything more. While Oliver’s death was a tremendous blow, his absence had created the avenue by which these relationships were being created. It was the best possible outcome of a tragedy.
Aware that it might be the last time she performed this routine in the familiar setting of the camp, Sharon got dressed and went to the dining hall. The sky was already light but the sun not yet up. She drank her lukewarm herbal tea and sat on the front porch watching the sun climb over the horizon. Even with the fear, deprivation, and challenges the last year had brought, there was nowhere she’d have rather spent this time. This was her place. It was the place she was whole. Even without her friends, family, and possessions, this was home in her heart.
When their guests had left last night, Sharon explained to the children that they’d be moving today. She did her best to present it as an exciting adventure, though the children were understandably apprehensive about leaving the familiar camp. Sharon extolled the virtues of Oliver’s house and how he’d want them to take advantage of this opportunity. She mentioned the benefits of being close to the neighbors and how that might help them in the future. While no one complained, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty on their faces and she didn’t like it.
All she could do was try to soothe them through this transition. There was no escaping pain in life. It came with the territory, with being alive and human. The best she could do was to help them cope and find the strength within themselves to deal with the challenge. It was what a teacher did, or a parent. You didn’t help people by removing the obstacle. You helped them by showing them how to overcome it.
After everyone understood the plan, she sent them to their cabins to begin packing.
“You don’t have to take everything,” she explained. “We’ll be back here almost every day. We’ll be taking care of the gardens and moving things slowly over time. We can’t take it all at once so pack what’s important to you. We’ll get the rest later.”
She had no idea how they were going to make the move down the mile of camp road, other than with wheelbarrows and wagons. The children could wear backpacks. They’d do it one step at a time and they’d be fine. She did not doubt their abilities.
When she finished her tea, Sharon returned to the kitchen and began packing items she expected they’d need at Oliver’s house. She didn’t bother with the institutional-size pots and pans, or the two-foot long serving spoons. She began with spices and the packaged food they had remaining. Some of it was on high pantry shelves and she’d have to get Nathan to get it down for her. As she thought about all the things that needed to be done, she decided to go ahead and get the children up. It was going to be a long day and there was no use delaying it.
Sharon went to the back porch and tugged the white cotton rope hanging at the edge. Above her head, the cast iron bell rang and could be heard even at the farthest reaches of the camp. Traditionally it was how they called people to meals or signaled that it was time to attend a session. They hadn’t used it often in the last year but it was somehow fitting to use it now, on what might be the last day of camp.
The sound of crunching gravel on the road caught her attention for the second day in a row. For some reason, her first thought was that the gravediggers might be returning for some reason. Then, in a surge of panic, she imagined Kimberly and her son returning to continue yesterday’s argument.
She moved further down the porch to where she could better see the road and was surprised by the appearance of a horse. It wore a more conventional harness and was towing a golf cart behind it. Kendall waved eagerly from the driver’s seat. Freda followed along behind him on her horse. She waved when she saw Sharon on the porch.
Sharon shot down the ramp and headed toward the small parking lot. Kendall reined the horse to a stop and set the parking brake on the cart. He stiffly maneuvered out of the seat, straightening the Levi Garrett Chewing Tobacco cap that got knocked askew in the process.
“You like it?” he asked, gesturing at the vehicle.
She smiled. “That’s cool! Reminds me of the way I used to get around here before we ran out of gas.” She pointed to the tall weeds beside her cabin. “Mine is setting over there.”
“I’ll trade you.”
Sharon looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
He grinned. “It’s only one horsepower but it’ll go.” He cackled at his joke.
“I don’t want to take your cart. You might need it.”
“He made it just for you,” Freda said from the back of her horse. “He was out there half the night banging and tinkering.”
Sharon rolled forward and opened her arms wide. Kendall leaned over and she gave him a powerful hug. “It’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I yanked the battery out and everything else it didn’t need. That got the weight down. I used some old pipes to make the shafts that connect to the harness. I mounted them to the bumper and it seems to work all right. That horse doesn’t have any trouble pulling it. You should be able to load this cart up and go all day.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You done said it,” Kendall said. “You thanked me.”
“But don’t you need your horse?”
“Honey, I got more of them. And even though folks need them for riding right now, there’s a lot of them being given away. People ain’t got no way to care for them so some are free for the asking.”
“You want to try it?” Freda asked. “Kendall can ride with you and make sure you got the hang of it.”
“I’d love to!”
Kendall looked at her chair. “You need...help?”
Sharon shook her head and smiled, trying to dispel his awkwardness. “I’ve been doing this a while. I’ve got it.”
By the time Kendall circled to the passenger side, Sharon was already in. “You need help?” she teased.
He laughed. “I might.” He ducked and slid in beside her.
“What do I do?”
“Steering will be about the same. The brake pedal barely works so you don’t have to worry about that. Reining in the horse is how you slow and stop it.”
“That’s perfect since my other cart had hand brakes,” Sharon said.
“Now you still have a hand brake for parking,” Kendall said. “That’ll keep the horse from wandering off with your cart if he sees some juicy grass somewhere or takes a notion to get him a drink.”
“It’s a he?”
Kendall nodded. “Nice old gentle horse. I’ve had him for years. I let my grandchildren ride him if that tells you anything. He’s got a good disposition.”
“What about the harness?”
“I didn’t have a harness with a collar so this relies on straps across his breast when he’s pulling. It’s a basic buggy harness. You can probably put it on by yourself with some practice, but it may take two of you in the beginning. He don’t mind being harnessed so he’s not going to fight it. He’ll just stand there and let you do it, pretty as you please.”
“Can I go?”
Kendall latched a hand onto the roll cage. “Let’s do it.”
Sharon released the parking brake and the cart rolled a tiny bit as it took up the slack in the harness. Same as she’d done with Honey, she clucked her tongue and snapped the reins. The horse started walking and they moved through the pastures below the dining hall, Kendall giving a few pointers along the way.
“He might be able to turn the cart without you steering, but it’s going to be a lot easier for him if you help him out with the steering wheel. Given enough time I might have been able to integrate the harness shafts into the steering of the cart, but it wasn’t going to be easy without a welder.”
Sharon was beaming. “
You did an amazing job. I’m so excited about this. You don’t know how much this is going to help with our move.” She glanced in his direction, expecting to see him smiling too, but instead she found his face clouded, a frown crinkling his brow. “What’s the matter?”
“I should have expected this but we found Kimberly at Oliver’s house when we took out of here yesterday. She and that son of hers were going through the place, trying to find anything of value.”
“I figured we hadn’t seen the last of her,” Sharon said.
“They didn’t trash things too bad, but they left a bit of a mess. Emptied some drawers and shelves. Don’t know what they expected to find, probably searching for a stash of money or something.”
“If Oliver had any money laying around he probably spent it on this camp.”
“I know that and you know that, but Kimberly won’t believe it. She’s probably going to continue being a thorn in your side until she gives up on this and goes away.”
“What happened when you found her?”
“She gave us the same garbage she said at the funeral, about how all this should have been hers. She accused you of trying to weasel your way in and steal it off her.”
“I never—”
“I know,” Kendall said, throwing a hand up. “None of us believe that. We got her to leave. Reckon we shamed her out of there. She had a few things in a pillowcase and wouldn’t show them to us. The younger fellers were ready to take it from her and dump it out, but we didn’t want to go there. Didn’t know if she might have a gun or something.”
“Oliver offered me one before. I know he has some.”
“Any idea where he kept them?” Kendall asked.
“Not really.”
“She might have found them.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to say.”
“I’ll do some looking once we get into the house.”
“You’ll need to keep an eye out for that woman. She was raised with the idea that all this should be hers. That’s a long time to let hate fester. You think on something that long, you aren’t going to let it go overnight. Not without a fight.”
“I’ll remember that,” Sharon said. “We’ll be careful.”
“The wife and I will keep an eye on the road but that don’t mean anything. She could slip right by us. You might want to think about a dog or something. You’ll need some way to keep an eye on things.”
“A dog is an excellent idea. The children would love that, but I’d like to start it as a puppy. Something that can grow up around them and they’ll be comfortable with.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open.”
They circled back to the parking lot and found several of the children standing there with Freda. They were petting her horse. One sat in the saddle, grinning broadly. They watched in amazement as Sharon came riding through the tall grass in her new golf cart.
“Look what Mr. Kendall brought me,” she announced.
Kendall climbed out and the children swarmed the cart. They climbed on the back and into the seat with Sharon. One of them tried to honk the horn, disappointed that it wouldn’t make a sound.
Kendall ducked back down to where he could see beneath the canopy and waved at Sharon. “I’ll get out of your hair. I know y’all have a big day ahead of you. If you have any trouble with the cart...or any trouble at all...just give us a holler.”
Sharon grinned widely. “Thanks again. I appreciate you guys very much.”
Kendall climbed into the saddle and steered his horse over toward the dining hall porch where Freda was already waiting for him. The porch had her at the same level as the horse’s back and it was a simple transition to climb on. As they rode off, they waved at the children.
Sharon waited for a break in the chatter and got the children’s attention. “Okay, someone bring me my chair. We’ve got a lot to do but I need to get some breakfast in you guys first.”
40
The Camp
It felt strange going into Oliver’s house for the first time. It wasn’t really the first time, but it was the first time since several significant things had happened. It was Sharon’s first visit with Oliver not there, either living or dead. It was her first time visiting the house since Kimberly and her son had ransacked it. It was also her first time visiting the house with the idea that, at least for the short term, it would provide a home for her and the children.
It was only her and Nathan on the first trip. The children had collected all of their sleeping gear—pillows, blankets, sleeping bags—and it was strapped onto the golf cart. Kay was in charge back at the camp. She was supposed to help the kids pack up the personal items they wanted to bring with them. Within reason, they were encouraged to bring anything that would help them feel at home in their new surroundings.
“You unload the golf cart onto the porch,” Sharon said. “I want to take a look around before we start moving things in.”
Sharon opened the back door and entered the kitchen. The unlocked door was a stark reminder that this would have to be one of the first things she addressed. She had to find some way to secure the house. She couldn’t trust the existing locks even if she found the keys because Kimberly might have found a set while she was going through the house. She could use slide-bolts or even bar the door while they were inside but there would be times they went back to the camp to work in the garden and she wanted to be able to lock the house behind her.
There were clear signs that someone had been in the house since she’d left. She knew Kendall and Freda had been there because they’d helped with Oliver’s body, but they wouldn’t have done anything like this. There were some cardboard boxes and plastic shopping bags on the table. Sharon moved closer and saw that they contained food from Oliver’s cabinets. That explained why all of the cabinet doors were open.
Sharon resisted the instinct to close all the cabinets and drawers, to return everything to the way it had been. There would be time for that later. She made a circuit through the house. In every room, she found drawers pulled out and closet doors swung wide open. There were items on the beds in the unused bedrooms, like this was where they’d sorted through what they found or where they piled items they intended to take.
She saved Oliver’s room for last. It wasn’t a shrine but it provoked intense feelings in her. When she’d last been in there his body had been stretched out on the bed. It was where she’d said her last goodbye to the friend who’d given her the opportunity to run the camp. When there was nowhere left to go, no excuses remaining for not checking his room, she rolled up to that door and paused. She almost felt like she should knock.
Sharon turned the handle, heard the polished latch work its smooth magic. She swung the door wide and regarded the room before entering. The curtains were open, allowing the light of the day into the room. That was a small blessing, dispelling some of the gloom from the empty chamber. Then it occurred to her that the curtains had probably been opened by Kimberly to better see what she was doing. The idea of that woman despoiling the sanctity of this room angered her.
While the space felt almost sacred to Sharon because of what she’d experienced there, it meant nothing to Kimberly. To her it was just another room. The closet door stood agape. Drawers hung open, clothes draped from them. Sharon spotted several guns on the bed and moved closer. Her dad had served in the army and she’d been raised around guns. She even owned a few but had to wonder if they were still at her home. Someone might have broken in and stolen them. She tried not to think about that.
There were a couple of shotguns. They were in good condition but well-used, the bluing worn down to the polished metal beneath. There were a couple of hunting rifles too. Several boxes of ammunition and shotgun shells were scattered on the bed. There were no handguns, though.
Sharon had no idea how many pistols Oliver might have but figured there had to be at least one since he’d offered to let her borrow it. That meant it was either hidden in the house or Kimberly had taken it. Sharon would have to give the chil
dren some instruction on not plundering around until she’d had time to thoroughly search the house. She’d also have to ask them to let her know if they saw any guns.
The guns on the bed would be safe for now. She assumed the children would naturally shy away from Oliver’s room because of what had happened there. They would be superstitious. Looking around at the mess, she experienced the same desire that she felt in the kitchen, the urge to right things, to return the room to the way Oliver had kept it. But not now. They needed to return to the camp for the next load. She closed Oliver’s door behind her and hurried down the hall.
Nathan was done unloading and sitting on the edge of the porch, awaiting further instruction.
“Things are a bit of a mess,” she said. “There were some visitors yesterday during the funeral...”
“That woman? Mr. Oliver’s niece?”
Sharon nodded.
“Is it safe for us to live here?”
Sharon let out a long sigh. “As safe as anywhere else. That’s nothing for you to worry about. How about you start carrying sleeping bags to the bedrooms? For now, let’s do a girls’ room and a boys’ room. Just use the downstairs rooms for now. We can spread out more once we get settled into the house.”
Nathan hopped up from his seat and gathered some items from the porch. While he was ferrying loads to the bedrooms, Sharon began unpacking the items Kimberly had collected on the kitchen table. She put everything into the cabinets she could reach, closing all the doors as she worked and sliding all the drawers closed. By the time Nathan had all the sleeping gear stowed, she had the kitchen back in order. It wasn’t perfect but she preferred it over seeing that reminder of Kimberly’s intrusion every time she entered the house. That was like a slap in the face.
The Borrowed World Series | Book 8 | Blood & Banjos Page 25
