“Then maybe you’re just itching for a fight,” Lloyd suggested. “The folks who set this fire are the only ones around to take that rage out on so you’re ready to go after them. You’re just looking for someone to pay the price for everything you’ve been through.”
“That may be true, but so what? You can’t let people do shit like this. You can’t let them run over you and burn your stuff down. You have to fight back. You have to eliminate the threat before it eliminates you!”
“Not your community and not your rules,” Lloyd said calmly. “These people might do things differently. They have to live here. They have to live with the outcome of their actions.”
“Then we probably need to leave. Let’s get our shit and get out of here, because if we stick around, you know how this is going to end.”
“You’re going to solve it?”
Jim continued riding the shady trails through the interior of the camp looking for signs of damage. “I’m not going to stand around and watch that woman terrorize children.”
“Not every problem is yours to solve,” Lloyd said.
“I know that! You think I don’t get tired of feeling that way? I never wanted to be in charge of our group. I never wanted the responsibility of other people’s lives hanging over me. I never wanted my actions to speak for a group. I just want to be left the fuck alone. That’s all I want.”
As well as he knew him, Lloyd had never fully understood the toll that leadership took on Jim. His friend didn’t want the mantle of responsibility. He didn’t want other people paying for his choices. “Maybe you should just go on back.”
“If I’m going to be here, I’d rather stay busy,” Jim said. “What am I going to do back at that house with all those kids?”
Lloyd shook his head. “No, I meant that you should start on back to the valley. You should go home.”
Jim stared at Lloyd in confusion. “It’s safer for us to travel together. You’d get yourself killed out there alone. You’d get lost or eaten by a bear.”
“I’m thinking about staying, Jim. I’m thinking about living here and helping Sharon with the camp.”
Jim got off his horse and faced him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re wanting to stay here?”
“You guys don’t need me at your place, Jim. I’m a joke. I’m comic relief. There’s nothing for me to do but drink and play music. It’s not even appreciated.”
“We appreciate it.”
“Not the way these kids would,” Lloyd said. “Can’t you see it? Did you see the way they enjoyed the music and stories last night? That’s what they came to camp for. Music is what they need to keep their souls alive.”
“What about Sharon? Can’t she do that for them?”
“Sharon is the camp director. She can play some but she’s more of a student than a teacher. Her role was structuring the kids’ day, making sure there were activities, and supervising the counselors. They need more than that.”
Jim could see a fire burning in his friend’s eyes. He could sense his passion. It was something he’d not seen in him in some time. Not since the days he was performing regular shows. This was what Lloyd needed. Maybe he was right. Perhaps this was where he needed to be.
“What about Randi?” Jim asked. “I’m supposed to go back there and face her without you? She’ll eat me alive.”
Lloyd laughed. “I care about Randi and I’ll see her again. Hell, I’d be thrilled if she’d come join me but I can’t imagine her leaving her grandchildren.”
“Maybe she’d bring them. They could all move over here.”
Lloyd shook his head, the slightest tinge of sadness in his smile. “Nah, man, she’s one of you all. She loves you and Gary like you were family. She loves Charlie. She may never leave that valley, even if life goes back to normal. You’re stuck with her forever.”
Jim took a seat on a trailside bench and stared off into the woods. “Well shit.”
“What?”
“This was unexpected,” Jim said. “I think you’re serious.”
“I’m completely serious.”
“What about this mess? What about the people who burned this building down?”
Lloyd shrugged. “That’s just hillbillies being hillbillies. If Kendall says he can talk her down, I believe him. Maybe burning the building got it out of her system. This could be the end of it.”
“If that was the case, why did she show up at the house last night?”
Lloyd had no answer for that.
Jim didn’t believe for a minute this was over. He’d done his best to try and convince everyone of it, but his opinions weren’t welcome. As had been pointed out to him, this wasn’t his fight. He was done here. It was time to pack his toys and go home.
54
The Camp
Jim didn’t leave immediately, sticking around the camp to help Sharon, Lloyd, and Kendall salvage a few items from the charred rubble of the dining hall. It didn’t amount to much. They found some utensils, cookware, and a few hammer heads with only the burnt stubs of handles remaining.
“Those can be fixed,” Sharon said. “We can make handles.”
Despite such optimism, there was a lot of tension in the air. Neither Jim nor Kendall had much patience for each other at this point. Sharon was trying to push her feelings of loss aside by burying herself in the work. She grieved for her friend Oliver, for her damaged camp, and for the harsh end to the sheltered existence she and the children had experienced for the last year.
Lloyd was trying to mediate and act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He made several inane comments, most of which got no response from anyone. It was not a comfortable feeling for any of them.
Jim wandered off to the garden and filled a few old buckets with items that were ready to pick. He preferred the calm of the garden over the tension of those combing the ruins. He found some tomatoes and some green peppers that had ripened to a sweet red. He plucked up some carrots and onions. He filled a bucket with thick ears of corn, aware that corn on the cob was a favorite of children everywhere. It took two trips but he hauled it up to Sharon’s cart and found a place for it in the utility bed.
Lloyd, Kendall, and Sharon had scrubbed the soot from their hands in a rain barrel and were now ferrying a few items from Sharon’s cabin.
“I assumed I could always come back and get this stuff later,” she said. “Now I’m afraid to leave anything.” She didn’t voice the worry that anything she left behind might be destroyed or stolen if Kimberly decided to come back and wreak more havoc, but everyone understood that.
No one talked much beyond basic instructions. The work they did left a bad taste in everyone’s’ mouths. This place, sacred to so many, had been violated. It didn’t just anger those who loved the place, it left them with a sickening lump in their gut. If Jim had understood that, he might better have been able to process the emotions of this group and their hesitancy toward revenge might have made more sense to him. It wasn’t that they didn’t want someone to pay for what happened, they were just in shock, unable to determine the best course of action. They were stunned and needed time to collect themselves.
When Sharon’s golf cart was full, they strapped everything down and departed for Oliver’s house. The procession of riders returned to the same order they’d had on their way to the camp. Kendall and Sharon rode together, occasionally speaking between themselves. Lloyd and Jim rode along together, bringing up the rear.
“You sure about this?” Jim asked. “You really want to stay here?”
Lloyd didn’t hesitate with his answer. “It’s hard to describe, but you ever just know that a decision is the right one?”
“Yeah, I rely on my gut all the time. Sometimes I pay the price for following it, though.”
“My gut is telling me that this is what I need to do. I’ve felt a sense of dread for a long time. All last winter, this anxiety chewed at my gut all the time. I thought it would go away when spring came but it didn’t. It wasn’t the
weather, it was life in your valley. Don’t get me wrong. I love the folks there—all of you guys—but it’s not a peaceful place. I need someplace quieter. Calmer. Once I figured out that I wanted to stay here at the camp, all that anxiety was gone. What better sign could someone ask for?”
Jim couldn’t argue with that. He knew both sensations—the gnawing anxiety of indecision and the sudden relief that came from the awareness of a solution. What could he tell him? Jim was a lot of things but he wasn’t selfish. He knew that to try and talk Lloyd into staying was selfish. He couldn’t do that. He needed to support him.
“We’ll keep an eye on your house and hold onto all your stuff. It’ll be safe. I can’t promise I won’t go up there on occasion and sip from your liquor. I might even play some of the instruments because I know it would piss you off.”
Lloyd shuddered. “I could handle the idea of you drinking my liquor, but I don’t know about you playing one of my banjos. I can make more liquor.”
“Don’t disappear out here in the world, Lloyd. If this ain’t the place, come back and see us. Even if it ain’t permanent, stop by and let us know what you’re doing. I don’t want to lose track of you. It’s not like we can text or anything. You’ve always got a place with us. You’re always welcome.”
Despite the seriousness of the moment and the nature of their conversation, there was no sadness. They were old friends—the oldest of friends—and they’d come to many crossroads in their lives. Many times they’d parted with a wave, not knowing the next time they’d cross paths. Life had always come back around to them and Jim expected it would again. This wasn’t an end. It was just friends doing what friends inevitably have to do because there are larger forces in the world than friendship. Like it or not, that was the truth of things.
When they reached Oliver’s house, Jim pitched in with the rest to unload the items they’d hauled back. With the assistance of the children it took very little time at all. They were done in less than ten minutes, leaving Jim standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“I’m going to help the children get lunch together,” Sharon announced, heading for the kitchen.
That left Kendall, Lloyd, and Jim standing together in an awkward huddle around the empty golf cart.
“Reckon I’ll unhook this horse,” Kendall said.
“I need to see how you do that,” Lloyd said. “I might need to do it sometime.”
Kendall looked at Lloyd curiously.
“I’m thinking of sticking around a bit,” Lloyd told him. “These kids came here to learn music. I intend to make sure they do.”
Kendall cast a wary glance at Jim, making Jim and Lloyd both burst into laughter. There was nothing subtle about the gesture at all.
“Don’t worry,” Jim said. “I’ve got to get on home. I’m leaving him behind.”
With the addition of that new piece of information, that Jim wasn’t staying, Kendall was suddenly grinning. “I think that’s a dandy idea. That’s just what they need around, another set of adult hands to help out. Sharon has had a lot on her plate. I don’t know how she’s done it.”
Lloyd nodded. “She had Oliver’s help and she doesn’t have that anymore. I bet she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed. Even if he wasn’t a lot of physical help, he provided emotional support. He was another adult to talk to.”
Kendall leaned closer. “Since you’re going to be sticking around, how about you come by my place after lunch. My wife and I are going to go talk to Oliver’s niece later. We’re going to try to get some of the other neighbors to go with us.”
“I’ll do that,” Lloyd said.
“I’m going to get my shit together and get out of here,” Jim announced. “I got miles to cover.”
“You’re not staying for lunch?” Lloyd asked.
“No, I got food. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need my horse back?”
Jim shook his head. “You keep it. You’re going to need it. Besides, it’s enough trouble leading a packhorse. Leading another would be a pain in the ass.”
“I appreciate that.”
“It’s nothing. Maybe you’ll be more likely to visit us if I leave you a horse.”
“I’m hoping you might convince Randi to come over.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Maybe if you want Randi to come over you need to ask her yourself. I’m going to get an earful as it is for coming home without you.”
Lloyd winced in sympathy. He knew it was true. “Better you than me.”
Kendall drove the golf cart toward the barn. They unharnessed the horse and turned it out in the pasture. The three of them shoved the golf cart into the barn, where Kendall gave Lloyd a quick lesson on the vehicle.
While they spoke, Jim prepared his packhorse and loaded his gear. He was anxious to get home but planned on enjoying his trip too. In a world with no vacations, it was amazing how invigorating it was just to get away for a few days. He was enough of a workaholic though that he couldn’t escape the feeling he’d been shirking his duties. He’d make up for that when he got home.
Maybe after everything was harvested, he could take the whole family on a trip somewhere. It wasn’t like they could go to the beach, but maybe they could ride to the burial cave he and Lloyd had visited. Maybe they could ride to a lake and go fishing. He’d try to think of something. He knew that was the guilt talking.
“Wish we’d brought you more ammo,” Jim said, climbing into the saddle. “Didn’t expect you’d be staying and nothing I brought will help you.”
“I’ll be fine. Hopefully, this isn’t the kind of place where I’ll be burning through it at the rate you do.”
Jim conceded the point with a tip of his head. “Eh, I hope it ain’t either. I’d appreciate you all telling Sharon goodbye for me. Thank her for the hospitality. I’m just going to ride on out.”
Kendall approached Jim and extended a hand. “Sorry about getting pissy earlier. No hard feelings.”
Jim took the hand and shook it without a word. He gave Lloyd a wave, their customary manner of departure, and nudged his horse into a walk. He tugged the lead and the packhorse lifted its head from the grass to follow. Jim headed down the driveway and was gone.
“Reckon I’ll be heading home for a bite to eat,” Kendall said. “Don’t forget to head down to my place after lunch.”
“I won’t forget.”
Kendall mounted his horse and rode off. Lloyd headed toward the house and found Sharon on the back porch, staring at him in confusion.
“Where’s everyone going?”
“Kendall went home for lunch. Jim’s heading back to his place.”
Her look of confusion only deepened. “Without you?”
“I was wondering if there might be an opening for an instructor here at the camp. I teach guitar, banjo, and fiddle. I can do a little bit on a mandolin and I can wreak pure havoc with an accordion.”
Sharon smiled. “Your friend has already left and you’re just now springing this on me? What if I say no?”
Lloyd shrugged. “Last night you kind of made it sound like you’d be okay with the idea. There wasn’t much opportunity to talk about it this morning, but I suppose I could go catch up with Jim if you want shed of me.”
“I don’t want rid of you. We’d be glad to have you. All of us.”
Lloyd grinned. “I’m happy to hear that. You don’t know how much I need this in my life right now.”
“I would have made a formal invitation if I’d sensed this opportunity. I just assumed you had entanglements and obligations in your friend’s community.”
“I do have a few. One of them is a woman named Randi and I fully expect her to ride over here just for the pleasure of kicking my ass.”
Sharon laughed loudly. “Oh, she sounds like my kind of girl. I do hope I get to meet her.”
55
Kendall’s House
True to his word, Lloyd showed up at Kendall’s place not long after lunch. He carried his shotgun across the saddle a
nd the 1911 pistol concealed beneath the tail of his shirt. Despite the premise that visiting Kimberly was intended to be a social call, Lloyd had learned a thing or two while living with Jim. He understood that things could go sideways with blinding speed. It was best to be prepared for that possibility and stay ready to shoot back.
Kendall and Freda had just finished lunch and met Lloyd on the porch. In the manner of Southern men of a certain generation, Kendall dropped his pants to his knees before reassembling himself with his shirt neatly tucked in. Freda paid him no mind. When he was done, Kendall mounted his horse, steered it alongside the porch, and Freda stepped from the porch onto the horse’s back.
“Used to be that every house had some means for a lady to mount a horse,” Freda said. “This keeps up, we might have to go back to that.”
“I’ve seen those,” said Lloyd. “Old houses with concrete steps in the yard that seemed out of place.”
“Yep, for mounting horses or buggies,” Kendall said, steering his horse onto the dirt road. “Used to be something like that at Oliver’s place but they used a tractor to pull it off. Rolled it into a sinkhole as I recollect.”
Lloyd fell in alongside them. “How far is it to Kimberly’s house?”
“A couple of miles,” Kendall said. “She lives closer to town. I’m hoping by the time we get there we’ll have wrangled up a few neighbors to join us. Things like this carry more weight if you have several folks along with you.”
“Strength in numbers,” Freda said.
In Lloyd’s mind, a larger force increased the chances of intimidating Kimberly into stopping her rampage. He didn’t mention that though. Kendall and Freda seemed more intent on this being a social call than a threat. Lloyd didn’t care how Kimberly interpreted it as long as she stayed away.
The Borrowed World Series | Book 8 | Blood & Banjos Page 33
