Not Exactly Allies

by Kathryn Judson

CHAPTER 65 – REFUGE

  Carl Westmoreland, better known as Hippo, looked up from gardening to see a Kia Picanto pulling onto the gated lane that ran past his house and back to some outbuildings. He thought he recognized the high-spirited boy who popped out of the back seat to open the gate. The driver looked, as best as Hippo could tell at the distance and through the windscreen, to be a famous Premier League player. He set the hoe aside, dusted himself off, and went to meet the car.

  Conan had barely latched the gate behind the car, when Lancelot jumped out and challenged him to a footrace, with Hippo as the finish line. Lancelot slammed his door shut, and both boys ran full speed down the lane.

  Hippo grinned. He grinned even more broadly when he saw a boy in the front passenger seat, pumping a fist in the air. Mauger still had some healing to do, having caught bullets high and low during the invasion, or else he'd almost certainly be giving his buddies solid competition.

  "Mum says hi," Conan said, in English, as he came up.

  "So does Vincent. They're working on something secret today," Lancelot said, in a strange mix of English and French, between gulps of air. "They won't tell us what."

  "Duh. What do you think secret means anyway?" Conan said.

  Lancelot tagged Hippo. "Hah! I won. You never tagged him!" he said to Conan.

  "Did to!"

  "You're dreaming!"

  "Am not."

  "Are too!"

  "We wanted to surprise you! Did we?" Conan asked Hippo.

  "I'll say. It's the best surprise I've had all day."

  Hippo went to help Barrajas extract himself from the driver's seat. "I don't quite know how you manage it, Barrajas," he said.

  "Aw, it's a walking cast. No worries. Can you help with Mauger? There's a wheelchair in the back. Let me get it for you. That's if this is a good time to visit? I should have called ahead…"

  "Glad to see you. I've got visitors, but you'll get along great with them I think."

  "I've had three surgeries already," Mauger boasted. "And I've got better scars than anybody."

  "I'll just bet you do," Hippo said. He turned toward the house. "Elizabeth! Daniel! Come meet some friends of mine!"

  "Is that good manners, to yell?" Mauger asked, smugly.

  "It is if you want to warn people," Hippo replied.

  A young woman showed up at the kitchen door, her swollen belly making her cardigan hang in distinctive curves on each side. "You boys wouldn't be hungry, by any chance?" she asked.

  "We're starved," Mauger said, remembering to use English. (He had this phrase down pat, as much as he used it.)

  "I've made pasties. I hope you like them. I'm trying to think up things that Dan can eat without having to use a knife or fork," she said.

  "What's wrong with Dan? Is he a baby?" Mauger asked, not bothering with English, because of the effort of putting together something unfamiliar.

  "Is that French? I don't speak French," Elizabeth said.

  "The boys will speak English from here on out then," Barrajas said.

  The boys glared at him.

  "If they know what's good for them, anyway," he added.

  The boys backed down, at least a little.

  "Daniel's problem is that he has two broken arms. It's a nasty problem, having casts on both arms at once," Hippo said. "Even if, thank goodness, one of them is below the elbow."

  "You don't want to mess with having two broken arms," Conan said, oozing knowingness.

  "Tell me about it," an athletic man said as he stepped up beside Elizabeth. He wagged his broken arms. Upon seeing Barrajas's cast, he said. "My name's Daniel. Welcome to Broken Bone Central. Our motto: Best nurses on the planet."

  Elizabeth blushed. "Don't get fresh, Mister," she said, good-naturedly, before going back inside.

  Hippo got Mauger loaded into the wheelchair and from there into the house. The other boys managed to help, without being helpful.

  "I've got a few things to put away. I'll be right back," Hippo said.

  "I'll come help," Barrajas said. "You boys stay here. I'll be right back."

  "How are things going?" Hippo asked, when they were alone.

  "Like a roller coaster. Louisa's in her element, reforming street children. But just about the time we think we've got something figured out, they surprise us with something entirely off the wall instead of what we were counting on."

  "Welcome to parenthood," Hippo said.

  Barrajas looked around. "To look at the place, you'd never know anything had happened."

  "I know. I almost wish I hadn't patched all the bullet holes or plowed all the blood under. It takes some of the memory away. I guess that sounds morbid?"

  "Not really. Sometimes Mauger being crippled is all that keeps it real for me, at least for now. I guess it'll settle into some sort of vague reality as time goes on."

  "Calamities generally do. They overwhelm at first, and then flit out of reach, usually. After a while, you're not quite sure what was real, what was news stories, what was rumor, and what was nightmare."

  "Tell me about it. And, about not calling ahead? I'm sorry. I wasn't sure, when I headed this direction, whether the boys would be up to it."

  Hippo didn't comment.

  "Who am I trying to kid?" Barrajas said. "The boys have woven it into their lives just fine."

  "Kids can," Hippo said. "To some degree."

  Barrajas gazed somberly around the farm, his eyes lingering on places where men had died. Hippo stayed close, but didn't say anything, on the grounds that some experiences shouldn't be intruded upon, or rushed.

  "Not to change the subject or anything, but who are Elizabeth and Daniel, or am I allowed to ask?" Barrajas said, when he brought himself back to the present.

  "Elizabeth is a young woman in hiding from her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, who says he'll kill her if she doesn't get an abortion. Her family is no longer on speaking terms with the ex-boyfriend, but agrees with the abortion verdict. I'm like a station on the Underground Railway, or whatever it was that kept slaves alive during their bids for freedom over in America – except we save young women from people who think women can't cope with pregnancy, and shouldn't be allowed to try."

  "My lips are sealed. But my bankbook isn't. If I can help?"

  "So far, so good, as far as I'm concerned. But I know a couple of sweet old ladies with brave hearts but barish cupboards you might be able to help, anonymously or otherwise."

  "I'd be glad to," Barrajas said. "And Daniel is some sort of relative, or what?"

  "Daniel got busted up defending civilization against the barbarians. He's a bright lad, but even bright lads can't keep themselves healthy without help when they can't use their arms properly. As it happens, he's one of those rare men who thrive on extra attention when they're sick, and Elizabeth, as it happens, is rising nobly to the occasion."

  "Hmmm."

  "Oh, yes, things may have become quieter since your boys left me, but I can't say that life has become dull," Hippo said, with a wink. "Hey, did you ever get a good look at my wind turbine set-up? It's pretty slick, if I do say so myself."

  "Dad! Are you going to be forever or what?" a boy called from the kitchen door.

  "I guess the wind turbine can wait," Hippo said, noting his companion's reaction to being called Dad.

  "Uncle Carl, come here. I want to show you something," another boy called.

  "You don't mind if they call you Uncle Carl, do you?"

  "I think I can live with it," Hippo said. "Let's go rescue Daniel and Elizabeth, shall we?"

  They walked in on happy chaos. Daniel, with a marker held clumsily between swollen fingers, was playing Noughts and Crosses with Conan. He professed himself to be shocked, just shocked, that he was losing to a mere child. Elizabeth was getting able assistance from Lancelot, except when Lancelot was fussing at Conan for being in the way. Mauger was off to one side, stymied at how to dismantle a wooden puzzle, but refusing to give up or ask for help just yet.

  Hippo
guessed that part of Mauger's intensity with the puzzle was because he'd lost control of the other boys. Undoubtedly he wanted everyone to think that it was his idea to be off by himself, very, very busy with wooden puzzles. It was funny, and perhaps a little sad, but at the same time it was a surprisingly mature reaction to a loss of face. Maybe, just maybe, the child really would rise above his beginnings after all.

  By an odd coincidence, Hippo felt some sort of allergy attack coming on just then. It had to be an allergy attack, surely. He didn't get weepy, as a rule, without some airborne allergen wafting its way into his system.