by N. C. Reed
“Okay, Pa,” Clay made his way to the door. “You be okay alone?”
“I'm not dying yet,” Leon growled. “Just getting ready for when it does happen. Don't be in such a hurry to be rid of me!” he shook a fist at his grandson.
“No, I'll never be in a hurry for that, Pa,” Clay smiled softly. “See you.”
“Yeah,” Leon said after Clay was gone. “See ya, boy.”
-
Clay thought about what he was going to say to Lainie all the way to Nashville. The envelope in his pocket containing the deed to the club was heavy on him. Would that be enough to keep her from listening to him? To keep her from coming to join him? Would she elect to take her chances in Nashville once she realized she owned the club outright?
He didn't know the answer to any of those questions, but he did know that he no longer wanted to think about the future if she wasn't a part of it. That had caught him by surprise he had to admit, but it was a pleasant surprise. Lainie didn't judge him. Maybe because he didn't judge her, he didn't know, but he didn't care, either. The fact that she knew what kind of man he was and still accepted him meant a lot. Of course, there was one thing she didn't know yet. Two actually, when you added in their preparations for what might be nothing.
He would have to tell her everything he decided. Lay it all out for her, and then let her make up her mind what to do. That was the only fair way to do things.
Before he knew it he was sitting in the rear lot of the club. He pressed the button on the garage door opener that allowed him to enter the cavernous rear area and park beside her car. When he got out with his bag she was waiting and ran to him, hugging him.
“Hiya, Cowboy,” she smiled at him. She was still dressed for work late on a Saturday night, and she was right; she smelled like smoke and alcohol. Strangely, it didn't bother him.
“Hiya, beautiful,” he murmured back to her, kissing her. “How are you?”
“I'm much better now,” she told him, laying her head on his chest and breathing deeply. “You smell like diesel and dirt,” she giggled, looking up at him.
“Occupational hazard,” he grinned. “So are you finished for tonight?”
“Almost,” she nodded. “I still need to do the money, but that shouldn't take long. Maybe thirty minutes?”
“Whatever it takes,” he nodded. “I have a present for you from Leon, by the way,” he added, letting a hint of mystery creep into his voice.
“Oh? What is it?” she was almost like a little girl.
“Surprise,” he shook his head. “What do you say we order in? I'll get us something delivered and get cleaned up while you finish up, then you can grab a shower and we can talk. There's a lot to tell you.”
“You're starting to worry me a little, Clay,” she looked at him warily.
“Don't be worried,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “Pizza okay?”
“Sure,” she nodded. “You know what I like. There's soda in the office fridge. I'll be up as soon as I can finish.”
“I'll be waiting.”
-
“What are you bunch up to?” Angela asked as she and Gordon sat in their living room, watching a rerun of a show they had both seen at least five times.
“What?” he pulled himself away from his thoughts to look at his wife. “I'm sorry, dear. What?”
“I said what are you bunch up to,” she repeated. “All these 'meetings' with you, Leon, Clay, the twins. What are you doing? What is all that new stuff hanging in the sheds for?”
Gordon was silent for a minute, then turned the television off. He and Angela had been married for a long time, and he had never lied to her. There had been times he hadn't told her something, but keeping something from her wasn't the same as outright lying. He wasn't going to do that. Not ever now.
“This has to stay with you for now,” he told her first. “We're planing on telling everyone next Sunday evening anyway. Clay's bringing his girl to meet everyone if she can make it, so she may be here as well. But until then, I'm asking you not to say anything about this. Just think about it and keep it to yourself.”
“You're starting to worry me a little, Gordon,” she raised an eyebrow. Despite her 'housewife' persona, Angela Sanders was a very intelligent, very tough woman. Her worrying over her children did not make her weak, but rather just the opposite. Being strong, and intelligent, made her worry.
“We may have reason to be worried,” Gordon admitted. “I'm about to tell you something that I really shouldn't because I promised not to. But I've never lied to you Ang, and I'm not going to start now. There's a reason Clay came home when and how he did. He was scared of something. Scared enough that he left what he was doing and came home to us. To be with us.”
“Is something wrong with Clay?” Angela asked, her voice suddenly wooden.
“Not that I know of,” Gordon shook his head. “No, it's something that he learned while he was overseas. Or at least thinks he learned. I'm about to tell you what he shared with me and you cannot let on that you know this. Not until Sunday. Can you do that?”
“I imagine I can,” she nodded calmly.
“We're working to prepare this farm, this whole place, for a disaster,” Gordon told her flatly. “There is a distinct possibility that we may be hit with a massive solar flare in the near future. One strong enough to knock out...”
He told her the basics of what they were trying to do as well as why. That they were trying to make sure they could survive in a world reshaped by the loss of so much in modern applications. When he was finished she sat quietly for a moment, clearing digesting. Then she got to her feet.
“Where are you going?” he asked her, afraid he had ruined everything by trying to be honest.
“To make a list,” she told him over her shoulder.
“What list?” he asked, getting to his feet. “What kind of list?”
“Gordon, if we lose everything then things like canning will be especially important,” she said pointedly, as if he should have already thought of it. “So will gardening. We need heirloom seeds that will reproduce after themselves. I need lids, rings...” her voice trailed away as she entered the kitchen, leaving Gordon shaking his head and following to assist her.
There was no way the rest would take it this well.
-
“Okay so what's the surprise!” Lainie burst into Clay's room forty-five minutes later, hair still wet from the shower. Pizza was sitting on the table in the room and Clay had gotten cleaned up as well.
“Easy now, slow down!” he laughed as she threw herself at him in a hug. “What's your hurry?”
“I love presents!” she told him, smiling. “I don't get many, so when I get one I love it whatever it is!” she exclaimed. Clay felt instantly like a heel for not bringing her some little something every time he came to see her.
“Aw, come on Cowboy,” she caught his mood. “I promise, you bring me happiness as good as any present,” she kissed him lightly. “Now where is it?” she asked him, grinning.
“Sit down,” he pointed to the bed. She did at once.
“Close your eyes,” he told her and she did, hands folded in her lap. He took the leather envelope and set it in her lap, her hands grasping it as he did so.
“Okay,” he told her and her eyes shot open.
“An envelope? Well, so it's probably not jewelry,” she laughed.
“It's from Leon,” he reminded her.
“Right, right,” she nodded, opening the envelope. “Wow, this thing is neat,” she commented. “Probably an antique.”
“Probably,” Clay agreed. He watched as she took the sheaf of papers from the envelope. She perused them for a second and shot Clay a quizzing look before turning back to them. Her lips moved as she read, slowing as she realized what she was looking at until she wasn't mouthing the words any more. Finally she looked up at him, shock evident on her face.
“I...” she struggled to speak.
“He said tell you it was yours anyway in
his will, so there was no point in waiting,” Clay grinned at her. “He also said you could keep it, sell it, lease it, he didn't care. It was yours, so whatever you did with it was fine with him. Congratulations,” he smiled, wishing he felt it as much as he wanted to.
“I...” tears were coming from her eyes now as she still tried to manage something to say. He sat down beside her just in time for her to bury her head in his shoulder and bawl her eyes out.
“Hey now,” he soothed, rubbing her back gently. “I don't think he meant for you to cry like that, baby girl.”
“I can't believe he did this,” she sobbed. “He's already been so g-g-good to me.”
“Well, you've been pretty good to him, too,” Clay pointed out. “It's not one way, Lainie.”
“S-s-still, it's too much,” she shook her head. “Why did he do this?” Suddenly her head shot up, tear streaked face marred with concern. “Is something wrong with him?” she asked.
“Not that I know of,” Clay shook his head. “I mean, he's up in years so there's that, but otherwise he was as ornery as ever when I left him.”
“Then why did he do this?” she asked, searching his face as thought she might find an answer there.
“Well, I have an idea why he did it now, when he did,” Clay admitted. “As to why he did it at all, that's something only he knows though he does reward loyalty.”
“What do you mean now?” she asked. “I thought nothing was wrong.”
“I said nothing was wrong with Leon that I know of,” Clay corrected. “I do have some things to tell you, though,” he sighed. “I've wrestled with how to say this all the way up here and came up empty. All I know to do is just come right out and say it-”
“You don't have to say anything else,” she held a hand up, her face wooden all of a sudden. “I get it.”
“Get what?” Clay frowned in puzzlement.
“You don't want to keep avoiding your family with your stripper girlfriend,” she stood up, straightening her clothes. “I don't blame you.”
“You're getting ahead of yourself,” he told her, laughing in spite of himself. “For your information, I was going to ask you to come and meet my family Sunday next, for one thing,” he told her flatly. “Now sit your ass back down and get rid of that chip on your shoulder,” he demanded. “I have serious stuff to say to you and I don't have time for that kind of crap.”
Shocked by his tone and by his declaration, she sat abruptly. Meekly.
“Now,” he started over. “Like I said, one of the things I wanted to do was invite you to Sunday dinner next weekend, to meet my family. But I have some other things to tell you too, and was going to tell you that first in case you decided you didn't want anything else to do with me,” he admitted.
“That's not going to happen, Cowboy,” she said softly.
“Don't say that so fast,” he told her flatly. “Listen first. Then, if you still want to make statements like that, they will be most welcome.”
“What can you possibly tell me-” she began but he silenced her with a raised hand.
“There are a couple things you need to know about me first,” he told her. “First, I didn't leave the Army on very good terms. In fact I was barely able to avoid court marshal. As it was I managed to blackmail my way into a general discharge so that my life wasn't completely ruined.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“Well, it's like this...”
-
“Think this will do it?” Leon Two asked, fighting a yawn. He and his sister had been working on a demonstration for the family on the effects of even a near miss from a massive CME.
“I think so,” Leanne nodded. “But let's face it, brother. They aren't going to want to believe it no matter how well we do this.”
“A lot of it hinges on whether they believe Uncle Clay or not,” Deuce nodded. “And I don't think we can help with that,” he sighed.
“Maybe we can,” his sister said thoughtfully. “Look at it like this...”
-
Lainie didn't say anything as Clay finished talking. She sat looking at him for so long that he wondered if she was in shock. He supposed getting the club as a gift could-
“Are you done?” she asked finally, her voice low.
“Pretty much,” he admitted.
“So, you think the world is ending,” she said flatly. She skipped over everything he'd just told her and went straight to that. He shook his head.
“I don't know what's happening,” he told her. “I just. . .it seemed prudent to be prepared either way, that's all. I…all I could think of was that it had to be a nuclear war, you know? It was the twins, smart as they are, who came up with the flare. The Coronal Mass Ejection. A literal fire from the sky, Deuce said. Leon remembered his grandfather telling about one when he was born called the Carrington Event. Apparently, it happened in the 1850's. Set telegraphs on fire, stuff like that. In a modern world, the damage will be catastrophic. Everything electronic will be pretty much fried.”
“Uh huh,” Lainie's tone didn't sound encouraging.
“You don't believe me,” he sighed, recognizing it for what it was.
“I think you believe it,” she replied evenly. Neutrally.
“Great,” he nodded to himself as he looked away. “So, I'm delusional. Or whatever it's called. I've been away from civilization for a while,” he waved it away.
“I didn't say that,” Lainie stood. “I do think you might have let your imagination get the better of you,” she told him. “Witch doctors and spirit visions, Clay? Really? Can you not hear how that sounds?”
“Yeah, I can,” he nodded, standing. “I also know how it looked,” he told her. “I've seen it. I can't afford to ignore it.”
“Clay, you've been working awfully hard. Maybe you just need to take it easy,” Lainie offered, her tone appeasing. Worst thing she could have done.
“So now I'm crazy,” he snapped over his shoulder as he began gathering his things.
“What are you doing?” she asked, seeing him stuffing things back into his bag.
“What does it look like?” he asked her, shutting his pack and tying it closed. “I'm going home. I did what I came to do. I've been trying to figure a way to tell you this, to tell you that I wanted you to come and be with me, be safe, at least if there is such a thing in that kind of world. I finally just bite the bullet and come out and say it, and you think I need to rest. As you put it to me, how does that sound?” He slung his bag onto his shoulder and put his hat on.
“Look, just because I'm not buying this story is no reason for you to go!” Lainie was alarmed suddenly, realizing that he really meant to leave. “You can't just throw something like that at me and expect me to accept it!”
“I didn't expect you to accept the story, not without the supporting data the twins are gathering right now, I just wanted to prepare you for that,” he told her as he walked to the door. “I did expect you not to think I'm nuts. I can expect that. Or thought I could at any rate. Have I exhibited any crazy behavior since you've known me?”
“No, but that wasn't-”
“Never mind,” he shook his head. “Look, do yourself a favor, okay? Make sure you're prepared. Have some safe drinking water and some canned food stored. Your car will probably still run because it's not electric, so keep the tank full. I'm sure Leon will make sure you're welcome at the farm no matter where I am. You may want to put your stocks and bonds into precious metals, gold and silver. At least some, anyway. If the worst happens, that's all that people will accept.” He opened the door.
“Clay, dammit, don't do this!” Lainie cried out. “This is blackmail! Either I believe you or you walk?”
“No,” he told her calmly. “I'm 'walking', as you put it, because you essentially called me crazy. I need to rest. Fine. I'm going home and rest. Meanwhile you won't have to deal with my possibly being mentally unbalanced. Best answer all around, don't you think?” He paused a minute, almost reaching out to her.
/> “I...” he wanted to say he'd miss her, but it seemed wrong, so he just turned and walked out, headed for his truck.
“I'll believe you if you stay!” she called, coming out behind him. “I will!”
“I don't need you to appease me,” he shook his head as he headed down the rear stairs. “That wasn't the point of all this, Lainie. I didn't honestly expect you to believe me, especially not right at first. But I didn't expect you to call me nuts, either. We're planning to tell the rest of the family Sunday and explain to them what could happen. I didn't want to dump so much on you in one afternoon. I wanted you to know what was coming and why before then so it wouldn't be a surprise. My mistake. I'm famous for 'em, unfortunately.”
“This isn't fair,” she told him.
“No, it isn't,” he agreed. “But it doesn't matter. You 'll be fine so long as nothing happens. I'm sure I will be too. I just. . .I thought. . .well, it doesn't matter what I thought,” he finished lamely as he made it to his truck. He reached inside and hit the garage door opener, then pulled it off his visor and tossed it to her. He wouldn't need it anymore.
“Goodbye, Lainie,” he said gently. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Don't do this,” she almost begged, tears flowing. “I'm sorry, Clay!”
“Me too,” he said to himself as he started his truck. He didn't look at her again, and he didn't look back.
He wasn't sure he could take it.
Behind him, Lainie watched him drive calmly away, not looking back at her, nothing. She raised the remote and pressed it to close the door, but suddenly hurled it against the wall, breaking it in a dozen pieces.
She screamed at the top of her lungs then, the sound echoing off the walls and reverberating all through the warehouse area of the building. Brick and two other men came running a minute later to find her crying angrily.
