by N. C. Reed
“Hey! You guys come look at this!” she called, having opened another hatch. The men hurried over.
“What is it?” Jerry asked.
“It’s. . .damn,” Two Bears gave a low whistle. “That’s a defib machine. For heart attacks. Full trauma kit. . ., spine board. . . .” He trailed off as he started looking things over.
“We need to take this one, too,” George declared firmly. “This stuff. . .Amy needs to see this.”
It took them a while, but finally the smaller truck was running.
“Do we take them back now? Or wait and pick it up on our way in?” Rhonda wanted to know, as the two vehicles finally smoothed out.
“I say we take’em now,” Jerry offered. “They’re running, and we can keep’em running. We’ll need a place to keep’em. One where we can keep the water from freezing.”
“How ‘bout the Clifton place?” Billy asked. “Got a big old barn there.” Jerry nodded thoughtfully.
“And it’s heated,” he told Billy. “Nice call, Billy. George, can you get this thing up there? From here?”
“Sure,” the soldier replied, grinning. “Can I run the lights and siren?”
“No siren,” Billy said at once, not realizing George was kidding. “Noise carries too far on this snow.” Peter Two Bears nodded, once more re-evaluating what he knew of Billy Todd. The more he saw, the more he liked him.
“He’s right. Noise travels a long way on this stuff.”
“Kidding, fellas,” George rolled his eyes. “Kidding.”
“Little’un, think you can drive the other one?” Jerry asked. Carefully.
“I imagine I can,” the girl nodded, her eyes narrowing. Jerry winced.
Ten minutes later, George was on the road, carefully piloting the large fire truck back home, with Rhonda leading the way in the smaller truck. Billy followed them until the turn to town, and then the rest of them headed into Cedar Bend.
“County had a new truck,” Jerry informed him. “Probably didn’t have five thousand miles on it. Doubt the plow’s hooked up, though.”
“We oughta be able to get it,” Billy said, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Yeah, be some work, though,” Jerry pointed out.
“We need it, we’ll get it done,” Billy shrugged. He was already feeling better, now that they had a functioning fire truck. He pulled into the County Garage, and looked at the locked gate.
“Hold on,” he announced, then eased the truck forward until the brush bumper was pushing the gate in. Slowly, he gave the truck more fuel until the gate gave way, and swung open.
“Nice,” Two Bears grinned. Billy nodded.
“Beats tryin’ to hammer it open, or riskin’ a gun shot.”
“There’s the truck,” Jerry said, pointing to where a bright green dump truck, less than a year old, sat under the shed.
“Well, that’s. . .that’s a green truck,” Two Bears commented, his voice telling them what he thought about that particular shade.
“Don’t care if it’s purple, if we can get it runnin’,” Billy muttered.
It took a little longer than the fire truck had, because the dump truck, while in the shed, was still exposed to the weather. But their persistence paid off, and the truck finally turned over. While they waited for the fuel additives to help restore the fuel, Billy and Jerry found the blade.
“This won’t be too bad,” Billy announced. “Ever thing’s pretty much done with the hydraulics.”
It took nearly an hour, but they managed to get the truck over to the blade, and the blade mounted.
“Now what?” Billy asked. “‘Nother fire truck?”
“No,” Jerry was looking at the sky. “I think we oughta call it a day, Billy. Be coming dark, soon enough. What say we call it a day’s work, and head home?”
“Okay,” Billy nodded. They had a fire truck. That was good enough for him.
CHAPTER FORTY
The weather began to clear during the week after the fire truck round up. Since the smaller truck carried a small tank of water for use in vehicle fires as well as brush fires, no one was itching to get out in the rough weather for more, just yet.
That suited Billy fine. He was happy, now, since they had a fire truck on hand. It was funny how much comfort that truck provided. Not just for him, but everyone.
When the weather broke for good, it was nice. The ground was still wet through and through, but the temperature came back up nicely, just in time for Thanksgiving.
Rhonda and Em had decided they would host the meal themselves, and that since the weather would allow them to dine outdoors, they’d host the meal at the Todd farm. Billy had no problem with that. He was always more comfortable at home.
He had taken Toby and Danny out hunting, and they had managed to bag three wild turkeys. Normally that would have been more turkey than anyone would need, but these days there were a lot of mouths to feed. As Billy and the younger men cleaned and prepared the turkeys, Jerry, Ralph and George had killed a large hog, and Amy, Emma, Michelle, and Debbie had worked the pig into various cuts of meat.
Billy had a large charcoal smoker that had belonged to his parents, so it was decided that the pork would be ‘smoked’ overnight. The turkeys would be cooked in various ovens the night before as well.
Jerry produced a nice surprise for the ‘menfolk’ the night before Thanksgiving, as they had assembled around the grill in traditional man fashion.
“This here is the real deal,” he warned, producing a mason jar.
“Is that. . . .”
“Yep,” Jerry grinned from ear to ear. “Gen-u-ine article. Made it myself.”
“No kiddin’?” Billy asked. “I never knowed you had a still.”
“And that’s as it should be,” Jerry nodded firmly. “Such nefarious items are a blight on society, and ought not exist at all. Except in secret,” he winked. Laughter rang out all over the place at that one.
“Well, let’s toast this valiant hog, who has given himself, that we might eat too much tomorrow, and give thanks that we’re still alive, and still going.” Ralph raised his small glass, once Jerry had poured everyone a round.
“Hear, hear!” Jerry praised, and raised his own glass. Billy sipped at his, never having been one for alcohol. It had a bite.
“Oh, that’s good,” Ben Kelvey smacked his lips. “Jerry, I do believe you make a mean shine, good sir.”
“I thank you, good neighbor,” Jerry nodded, pleased. He was glad to see that Kelvey was, indeed, a pretty good sort. The man had worked himself ragged nearly everyday at something. He didn’t seem able to sit still, for long. Jerry admired a man willing to work.
“That is the hair o’ the dog, sure enough,” George chuckled.
“Best I’ve tasted,” Terry Blaine agreed.
“None for you?” Jerry asked Two Bears.
“No fire water for red man,” Two Bears managed with a straight face, but lost it at the look Jerry gave him.
“I don’t drink,” the younger man told him once his laughter was under control. “Thanks anyway, though. I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t mean no offense,” Jerry said.
“None was taken,” Two Bears assured him. “It’s just that, in this case, the stereo type rings true. I don’t do well at all on hard alcohol.”
“That is true,” Blaine nodded. “He turns as mean as a. . .well, Indian,” he laughed. Two Bears chuckled.
“I pulled a drunk on R&R, once, in Kuwait. It. . .didn’t end well,” he shook his head sadly.
“Damn near an international incident,” Blaine muttered, and George nodded in agreement.
“Had to get the State Department involved,” he added.
“Must have been soooome drunk,” Ralph declared, already feeling the fire water.
“There was a woman involved,” George told him sagely.
“Ain’t there always?” Jerry laughed.
For a time, the gaggle of men were able to forget about the trials an tribul
ations of the recent weeks, and enjoy themselves. Long into the night, they drank, and talked, laughing often, crying once in a while, reliving memories of times passed, and friends and loved ones lost, both to the plague, and before.
For just one night, at least, life was almost normal.
*****
Rhonda looked out at the feast and felt satisfaction. Everyone had helped. Well, all of the women, anyway. The men had cooked the hog, and that was about all they could manage. The only sober men in the bunch had been Billy, Two Bears, and Toby. Billy had shared his one drink with Toby, and the two of them had settled for sharing a sixpack of beer with Two Bears. Jerry had frowned for a moment, seeing his son with a beer, but then relaxed. His son had become a man. He was entitled to be treated like one.
The rest were useless, today.
“Get that other table set up, sometime today, fellas!” she ordered, as Billy, Toby and Danny worked to get things set up. Benches and tables were everywhere. In all, there would be twenty-three men, women and children at the meal.
“We’re workin’ on it,” Billy didn’t snarl, but he was getting tired of being ordered around.
“Just not fast enough!” Rhonda shot back. “It’s almost time for everyone to be here!”
“Reckon if we ain’t done, they can get their own chair!” Billy muttered. Low enough that Rhonda couldn’t. . . .
“I heard that!” Billy could only shake his head as he headed back to the storage to get the last table, and some folding chairs.
“She sure is mean sometimes,” Danny sighed, walking next to Billy.
“She ain’t mean,” Toby replied from Billy’s other side. “She’s just bossy. Like ever other woman in the world.”
“Shut up, the both o’ ya,” Billy snorted. “She ain’t. . .well, okay, she is bossy,” he decided. “But she’s usually right, too. So we do what she says. Get me?”
“We get you,” both boys chorused.
“Good.”
*****
Two Bears was piling his plate high when he ran into someone else in the line.
“Excuse me,” he said at once. “I wasn’t watchi. . . .” he broke off as he got a look at who he had bumped into.
Michelle Silvers looked at the handsome man in front of her, and could not to save her life manage to speak. With everything else going on, there had been no meet and greet for the new families. She had never met Two Bears.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. Wow, but she’s pretty!
“Fuh. . .I mean fine!” she managed to stammer. “I’m fine, no problem.”OhmiGod he’s handsome!
“That was my fault, miss,” Two Bears smiled easily. “I’m afraid all this food sort of blinded me.” Man, oh man, she’s about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!
“It’s a good feed,” Shelly nodded. “Made that cornbread myself,” she added, proudly. For heaven’s sake, Shelly, is that the best you can come up with? Prattling about your cornbread?
“I do love cornbread,” Pete nodded. “Bet you’re a good cook, too,” he added slyly, and was rewarded with a blush of pleasure.
“Not really,” she admitted, demurely. “But I am learning. My mom, she’s a great cook. She’s trying to teach me.” My God, Shelly, can you possibly sound any more like an airhead?
“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Pete smiled again. “I think I’ll just go grab me a seat, and sample this cornbread of yours.” Damn, that didn’t come out like I meant it to. She’ll get mad, and I don’t blame her. I might as well of propositioned her.
“If you like it, there’s always more,” Shelly managed to say, just a bit saucily. Peter Two Bears turned away grinning, until he saw Jerry Silvers looking at him. That wiped the grin right off, and he hurried to find a seat.
Shelly willfully ignored her father’s stares, watching the man she’d just met walk to his seat with a grace she’s only seen in cats. Every part of him seemed to ripple as he moved, almost like he didn’t have a bone in his gorgeously muscled b. . . .
Argh! Stop it, stop it, stop it! She looked around quickly, only to see Rhonda across the table, grinning widely.
“Cute, ain’t he?” the little redhead whispered loudly. Shelly almost snapped back at her, until she realized that Rhonda wasn’t razzing her.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“Name’s Pete Two Bears,” Rhonda told her.
“Tw. . .what?”
“He’s a Native American,” Rhonda nodded. “Apache at that. Grew up on a reservation. Went into the Army when he was seventeen.”
“Wow,” Shelly eyes bulged at that. She fixed her own plate absent minded, and went to sit down with her family. Rhonda couldn’t help herself, and snickered as she watched Shelly stumble along, still trying to catch a glimpse of Two Bears. It was obvious, to Rhonda, that the attraction was mutual. She was still laughing softly to herself as she took her seat next to Billy.
“So funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she smiled. “Tell you later. Hush now, Jerry’s speaking.”
“Folks, reckon we got a lot to be thankful for today,” Jerry said somberly. “I don’t want to drag the day down, but I do think it’s a good time to remember our blessings, and they are in good supply. I’ll ask you to bow with me, and give thanks.”
“Almighty Lord, we thank you for this bountiful harvest, and for the fellowship of these good people, one with another. We’re mindful of our sins, and ask forgiveness of them, that we might stand pleasing in your sight. We also pray you bless this food, Oh Lord, and the hands that prepared it, that it might nourish our body, just as Your Word nourishes our Soul. Let us enjoy this day in fellowship, food, and thanks. In Jesus’ name, we pray, Amen.”
“Amen,” came a chorus of echoes, and then everyone was eating, talking laughing, and enjoying the day.
*****
The meal lasted most of the day. After everyone had eaten, there were stories, tall tales, even singing. Music from a boom box encouraged dancing among the adults, with Mary coaxing Toby out onto the floor, and Amanda managing to get Danny out as well, despite his protests. Soon they swapped, with Mary dancing with Danny, and Toby with Amanda. All four were having a good time. The younger children danced alone, or with whatever adult was available, or with each other, much to the delight of all.
“Ain’t been a bad day,” Billy said, as he and Rhonda sat out for a while, sampling more of the food.
“It’s been wonderful,” Rhonda exclaimed. She nudged Billy suddenly, and nodded to where Michelle Silvers and Peter Two Bears stood, dancing together to a slow song.
“Jerry looks like he’s gonna stroke out,” Rhonda giggled. “He’ll have to get over that. She’s a year older than I am, even,” she added, laughing.
“And you at the ripe old age of twenty?” Billy snorted. Rhonda nodded.
“Feel a lot older, these days,” she admitted.
“Reckon that’s true for most of us,” Billy agreed. “Still, you’re holdin’ up pretty good,” he added, mischievously. She answered with a punch to his arm.
“Why are you always hittin’ me?” Billy exclaimed quietly, holding his arm.
“Cause you need it,” Rhonda declared firmly, before kissing him.
Across the way, Terry and Maria sat watching for a while as well.
“Still glad we came?” he asked. Maria nodded.
“Si. These are good people, Terrence. It was the proper decision.” Maria’s English was heavily accented, but precise, as was common among those for whom English was not their first language. Maria had been born in a Latin Ghetto. Hard work had moved her away from it, where she’d met a young Army sergeant named Blaine.
“I think so, too,” he agreed. “Hated to leave our place, though, after all the work we did to it.”
“It will still be there, if we need it,” she murmured. “We are not without options. And it is good for the ninios,” she added, nodding to where their children were now playing with the others.
“Yeah,
I admit, I was worried about that,” Terry nodded.
“Dos Osos appears to have found a playmate as well,” she laughed, nodding to where Pete and Michelle were dancing. Terry took in the scene, and chuckled, but there was a note of worry as well.
“I hope he. . . .”
“New world, mi gringo,” Maria said softly, taking his hand in her’s. “Things have changed. He is no longer the salvagito. Leave it alone.”
“Si, mamacita,” Terry teased, hugging her close. “He’ll have to look out for himself, now.”
******
George and Debbie Purdy were watching as well, setting together.
“Your friend Two Bears seems rather happy,” she said, nudging her husband to get him to look. George snorted when he saw the Apache and the Farmer’s Daughter together.
“Never fails,” he shook his head in mock sorrow.
“Well, she is pretty,” Debbie told him. “And they’re both healthy and single.”
“And her father is the defacto leader of this outfit, too,” George snorted. “Leave it to Pete to hit on the woman who would cause the most issues,” he chuckled.
“Well, it could be worse,” Debbie told him. “He might have ‘hit’ on Rhonda.” George looked at her.
“He would never do that,” George said quietly, his voice tinged with anger.
“Well, she’s not married,” Debbie said primly. “I’d say she’s just as prime a candidate for his attention as the Farmer’s Daughter.” George sat silently for a few minutes, weighing his words. Finally, instead of speaking, he simply stood up.
“I’m going to take a walk,” he announced. She looked up at him.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you won’t,” the slight edge in his voice made her wince. “I don’t know why you keep saying and doing things like this Debbie. But I don’t want it to happen again. Ever. If it does, there’ll be consequences. Understand?”