Roland: Reluctant Paladin

by N. C. Reed

  “Exactly,” Roland nodded as if his point had been made. “There’s a bit more to Mister Turnbow than meets the eyes, I’m thinking. We already know he’s a lying snake, and power hungry. Wonder what else there is to know about him?”

  -

  Turnbow was true to his word. A car bearing the title ‘Sheriff’s Patrol’, pulled up in front of the school later that day. Two men got out, one carrying a shotgun. The driver was a tall man, dressed in jeans, a button-down shirt, and wearing a Stetson of all things. His boots were some kind of lizard, with golden covers on the tips.

  The second man was shorter, wearing a uniform. He was slightly overweight, and about the same age as the taller man appeared to be. He was also the one carrying the shotgun.

  Roland watched the men approach, sitting casually in a chair he’d brought out front. The MRAP was behind the building, out of sight. Only the Hummer was in view, along with one of the trucks.

  “Afternoon,” Roland nodded as the two men walked up. “Help you fellas?”

  “Are you Stang?” the taller one demanded. Roland nodded.

  “I’m Sheriff Tom Wilson. You got exactly fifteen minutes to load up and get out of here. Whatever you can’t load, you’ll have to leave behind.”

  “That a fact?” Roland replied easily. “Well, Sheriff, that’s not going to happen. I got twenty-eight kids living here, and already got a garden planted to feed ‘em. Used all our seed to do it, too. So we’ll be staying on, at least until the garden’s in. Anything else you boys need today? Ain’t got no coffee, but I can offer you a drink o’ water.”

  “I don’t think you understand the situation, soldier boy,” Wilson ground out. “You aren’t staying here. Period. We don’t want nor need your kind in our community, or near our kids. You are leaving, and you’ve got thirteen minutes left.”

  “My kind?” Roland asked, voice dangerously soft. “What kind would that be, law man? I would be mighty interested to know that.”

  “Listen you,” the uniformed deputy started, but the Sheriff stopped him with a raised hand.

  “You come in here, carrying all these children, threatening locals, seizing government property, that’s what kind, Stang. We don’t aim to stand for it.”

  “Threatening locals?” Roland asked, his voice puzzled. “Sheriff, we ain’t seen any locals. Ain’t seen but one soul at all since we’ve been here, and he ain’t really local. Lives ten or so miles up the road a ways. Least that’s what he said.”

  Wilson frowned at that. This wasn’t going the way he’d had in mind.

  “Let me do some explaining to you, Sheriff Wilson,” Roland said softly. “I fought gangs, murderers, pedophiles, and other kinds of predators to protect these children, and keep them safe, fed, and reasonably healthy. I lost one of them to a gang, shot him to pieces, just ‘cause. Mister Turnbow came down here today throwin’ his weight around, making noises about who was in charge, and hinting that he and his might just be taking these young’uns.” Roland stood suddenly, and both men backed away. The deputy started to raise his shotgun, but the bolt going home on an M-4 stopped him.

  Both men turned to see a teenager covering them with a military rifle, his eyes cold as a winter morning. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

  “Let me make things clear to you, Sheriff,” Roland continued. “We haven’t harmed or accosted a single person. This school wasn’t in use, and I figure it ain’t likely to be in the near future, right? It’s obvious no one around here really needs this place, or they’d already be using it.”

  “I got a pretty good idea what Mister Turnbow had in mind for my kids. And I’m telling you, right now, straight up. Anyone who so much as looks at one of these kids the wrong way won’t live to brag on it. And I don’t care who it is, Sheriff. Get me?”

  “All I want to do is provide a safe place for these kids. They got no one else to see to them. Abandoned, left orphaned, and preyed upon by all kinds. I won’t see that happen. No one else will, either. Are we clear? Sheriff?”

  “What claim do you have on these kids, anyway?” Wilson shot back.

  “I don’t ‘claim’ anything,” Roland shrugged. “They’re under my protection.”

  “I may have to get the State involved. And the judge,” Wilson threatened.

  “You can get the President involved if you can find him,” Roland shrugged. “Won’t change anything. You’re welcome to drop by any time you want, Sheriff. So long as you come peaceable. If you’ve got anything else on your mind, I’d rethink it. Hard. No one is going to take advantage of these kids. No one.”

  “You seem so sure that someone is aiming to take advantage, how do we know you ain’t taking advantage of them?”

  “He isn’t,” Maria’s voice cut through the tension. Roland didn’t turn to look at her, but it took willpower. He had no idea she was even around.

  “Who are you?” Wilson demanded.

  “My name is Maria Consuelo Tomas,” she said with a regal dignity that Roland found interesting. He’d never heard her speak that way before. “I am the caretaker for the smaller children. I see to their welfare. Roland sees to their safety, and to their needs. They have no one else.”

  “You illegal?” the deputy almost sneered.

  “I am a third generation American citizen,” Maria said proudly. “Not that this should concern you,” she added tartly.

  “We been runnin’ illegals out from around here,” the deputy grinned. “Can you prove you ain’t illegal?”

  “Can you prove I am?” Maria countered. “I am an American citizen. As such I have to prove nothing. It is you who must prove your accusations. And you cannot.” She turned her gaze back the Sheriff, as if bothering with the deputy anymore was beneath her.

  “As I said, Roland is not in any way taking advantage of anyone or anything. I do not especially like Roland, nor he me, but we have managed to work together to provide some semblance of normalcy for the children.”

  Wilson scratched his neck, at a loss for how to proceed. He normally wouldn’t have done anything for Turnbow if it meant hell fire raining on Main Street. But the man had convinced him something was wrong here.

  Now he was having second thoughts. Trouble was, he had burst in here like gangbusters, and now he needed a way to retreat gracefully. One that hopefully didn’t include getting shot by a dead-eyed teenager.

  “It’s beginning to look like I was fed some false information,” he settled for admitting. “And yeah, it was Turnbow who notified me. He made it sound like you were a bunch o' gypsies, takin’ up residence here. And that really and honestly is something we just don’t need.”

  “Gypsies?” Roland blurted, surprised. “Seriously? I mean real gypsies?”

  “Yeah,” Wilson nodded. “We get ‘em about three, maybe four times a year. Steal anything that ain’t tied down. Cut loose some stuff that is tied down. That’s why I came out here like I did. The best way to deal with them is start out hard and stay that way.”

  “Huh,” Roland scratched his head. “Who would of thought?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but almost every area has trouble one time or another,” Wilson nodded. “Anyway, you for sure ain’t gypsies. And it looks like you ain’t some kind of criminal, either. You military?”

  “I was,” Roland nodded. “I came upon the kids by accident. Literally looking to get out of the rain. Walked into a hornet’s nest. Well, a viper’s nest is more like it.”

  “Well, I wish I could help you, but we’re stretched thin all over,” Wilson told him. “Normally there’d be Child Services to call on, but not anymore.”

  “I know,” Roland nodded. “We’re fine on our own. Won’t deny another adult or two would be welcome, but we manage. From your tone, can I assume we can stay on here, peaceably?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Wilson shrugged. “I would like to see these children for myself. So, I can say I know they’re safe and cared for.”

  “That’s agreeable,” Roland nodd
ed. “C’mon with me and Maria. We’ll give you the grand tour.”

  “Wait here, Tony,” Wilson told the deputy. “Won’t be long.”

  “You shouldn’t go in there alone,” ‘Tony’ objected. “No tellin’ what might happen.”

  “Well, you ain’t going in there with that scatter-gun,” Roland said firmly.

  “You’re carrying a rifle,” Tony pointed out.

  “I trust me,” was Roland’s only reply. Wilson chuckled at that.

  “Wait at the car,” he ordered. “I’ll be along.” Tony looked reluctant, but followed his orders. Wilson didn’t miss the way James watched the deputy all the way back to the car. Or the way he kept watching him.

  “You can relax, son,” Wilson told him. “Tony's got a lot of bark, but not much bite.”

  “I’m always relaxed,” James said calmly, never taking his eyes off the deputy. Tony was lounging on the car, still carrying the shotgun.

  “C’mon, Sheriff, and see for yourself what we’re trying to do,” Roland suggested.

  -

  Twenty minutes later, Wilson was back outside with Roland. What he had seen had convinced him Roland was on the level in more ways than one.

  “I gotta hand it to you, Roland,” Wilson shook his head. “You’ve done a hell of a job getting this far.”

  “Wasn’t just me,” Roland replied. “Maria has been a godsend. If not for her, and James, and Ralph, Deena and Terri, we wouldn’t have made it. They’ve all worked long hours and done without to keep the others fed, and safe. Willie died working to keep them safe. He was just a kid. Bravest little fella you ever seen, though.” Roland’s voice caught a bit, but he stayed firm.

  “Well, far as I’m concerned, you’re fine here. And you’re right, there like as not won’t be no more school here. There’s no one to pay the teachers, and no fuel to run the buses, either. Probably won’t be for some time. We’re short on everything except problems.”

  “Anything we can help with?” Roland asked.

  “Not unless there’s more of you than I’ve seen here,” Wilson shook his head. “We’re starting to get some violent types through here. Home invasions, raiding parties, that kinda thing. Better keep that rifle handy,” he nodded to Roland’s M-4. “Wish I had one myself,” he laughed. “Come in handy if I could ever catch up to the bastards.”

  “Wait here,” Roland said, and walked back inside. When he emerged, he was carrying two M-4's, a dozen mags, and three hundred rounds of ammunition.

  “Here,” he said, offering the package to the Sheriff. “Hope it helps.”

  Wilson took the offered gifts, stunned.

  “Are you sure you can spare these?” he asked. “I mean, you might need ‘em yourself.”

  “These were extra,” Roland shrugged. “We don’t need them. I still have one extra, for the girls to keep inside.” That was the truth, in as far as it went. He did have one extra. He also had more extra. He figured the Sheriff didn’t need to know that.

  “Roland, I don’t know what to say,” Wilson admitted.

  “Say we’re friends, Tom,” Roland shrugged. “Or at least friendly. That’ll do for me.”

  “I can safely say we’re friendly, Roland,” Wilson smiled. “We’re using HAM and CB radios to communicate with outlying areas. You have one?” Roland nodded. Wilson scribbled in a pocket notebook, tearing the page out and handing it to Roland.

  “There are the frequencies we’re using. If something happens, give us a call.”

  “We’ll do that,” Roland nodded, pocketing the paper. “Same here. If you’re out this way and need a hand, let us know. We’ll try to be listening.”

  “Well, I need to go. I’ll swing through and have a word with Turnbow. You watch out for him, Roland. He’s an odd duck for all that he's a preacher. And he’s spiteful. He won’t like that you’ve gotten the best of him.”

  “I’m sure that’ll keep me up nights.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jenkins and his team left this morning, headed back to Nashville. I was sorry to see them go. Having them nearby was a nice security blanket. I’m pretty sure they all wanted to stay, but they feel obligated to Thomas. I don’t blame them. He’s a good man. Combat forges a bond between soldiers like no other.

  It’s been three days since my discussion with the Sheriff. I half expected to see Turnbow down here that night with torches lit, pitchfork in hand. Haven’t seen hide or hair of him, though, nor anyone else for that matter.

  Had a gentle rain last night. Perfect thing for the garden. I could see sprouts this morning. Lord willing, we’ll be able to feed the kids this winter.

  I sent a list with Jenkins of stuff we could still use, including some stuff Maria wanted. Jenkins promised if he could locate the items, he’d ask Captain Thomas for permission to make another run down this way with them. He’s a good man, and so are his team. The kind of guys you’d be glad to have at your back in combat.

  Things aren’t going too bad, at the moment. I mean, there’s still plenty to worry over, but we’re so much better off than we were two weeks ago it’s ridiculous.

  Of course, all that does is make me think something is bound to go wrong.

  -

  “Roland, have you been outside?” Jesse asked, his face creased with a frown.

  “Not this morning,” Roland shook his head, looking up from where he’d been writing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sky looks a little stormy.”

  Roland got up and followed Jesse back outside. James was outside as well, rifle in hand, looking back toward the west.

  “That looks bad,” he commented, never taking his eyes from the clouds.

  “That is bad,” Roland sighed. “James, go and tell Maria to gather the children in the inner hallway. You and Ralph gather cushions and blankets for them there, please. And you may want to hurry.”

  “Yes, sir,” James nodded, taking off at a run.

  “You think it’s gonna come a blow?” Jesse asked, concern in his voice.

  “I’m almost sure of it,” Roland nodded. “This school’s built pretty well, but this time of year, with the weather swinging back and forth, we’re as likely to have a tornado as we are a snow storm.”

  “You got that right,” Jesse agreed. “The vehicles are all behind the building. Think they’re all right there?”

  “They’ll have to be,” Roland shrugged. “We got nowhere else to put’em. They’re all empty, right?”

  “All but the emergency, ‘get out of dodge stuff’,” Jesse nodded. “We might have time to unload...”

  “No, that’s what they’re for,” Roland shook his head, cutting Jesse off. “Leave them there. We can’t go running every time a cloud comes up and unload. We’ll wear that stuff out. Let’s check the windows and doors. Make sure they’re all secure.”

  “I’ll take the west,” Jesse nodded, already moving. “I’d say we’d better...” Even as he spoke, Roland saw the line of fast moving clouds swirl, rise sharply, and then start back down.

  “Twister coming down!” Roland shouted. “Get inside! We’ll have to trust that the building is shut.” The two raced inside, stopping to secure the front doors. They moved to the interior hallway, where Maria and the others were doing a frantic head count.

  “What’s wrong?” Roland asked, seeing the look of fear on her face.

  “We’re missing two children!” she almost screamed. “We were on the playground when James came to warn us! They must have ran away when we were trying to get everyone inside!”

  Roland didn’t wait to hear anymore. He was already moving toward the rear of the building where the playground was located.

  “Stay here!” he ordered when Maria moved to follow. “They need you here with them! Jesse stay with them.” She reluctantly stayed behind, her face a mask of sheer terror. Roland ran on, knowing that he didn’t have much time.

  He hit the rear doors without slowing, bursting out the back at a dead run. He stopped as he hit the yar
d, looking frantically around for the two missing children. A gust of wind hit him suddenly, died just as quickly, then returned with greater force to stay. Roland had to struggle to stay on his feet.

  He looked back toward the rapidly approaching clouds, and was shocked to see the now fully formed twister was already on the ground, and grinding steadily toward the school.

  “Kids, where are you?!” he shouted, desperate to get them under cover. He didn’t know if he was looking for boys or girls, or even what their names might be.

  “Cassandra! Todd!” he heard James’ voice, and turned to find the teen behind him, shouting names.

  “Get back inside!” he ordered. James shook his head.

  “You need help,” he yelled back over the wind. “We’ve got to hurry!” he added. “Cassandra! Todd!” he yelled again. Roland picked up the call.

  The two separated somewhat, going in different directions. Roland kept calling the two names James had used, working his way east while James took the west. Roland saw a flash of color behind an outcropping of bricks and ran toward it.

  A boy of about seven years old was huddled behind the flange of brick, hugging the wall with strength born of desperation. Without even thinking Roland scooped the child into his arms and ran. Todd clung to him tightly, shaking with fear.

  Roland could see debris in the air as the storm grew closer, and felt stinging pelts of rain hitting him in the face. Seconds later he realized he felt stings because it wasn’t rain, but hail. Small stones of ice about the size of a pea.

  Covering the boy’s head with his hand, Roland bent his head into the increasing wind, and managed to straggle to the door. When he opened it, the wind jerked it out of his hand. Struggling to contain the door with only one free hand, Roland wound up stumbling into the building, and felt himself falling. Twisting his body, he managed to land with the boy atop him rather than beneath and felt his back contort in pain. The jolt of pain was strong enough that Roland lost his breath and gasped in reaction to it.

  He struggled to stand, helping the boy get to his feet. Todd promptly took off running again but at least this time he was inside. And running in the right direction. Roland let him go, trying to get to his feet to go and look for James and Cassandra. He gasped aloud again as pain shot through his back once more.