by E A Lake
“But,” Sharon continued, “it’s probably best to let the kids get on with their lives in some way. We can’t do anything for them. They’d die on the road within two weeks. We know that much from experience.” Judy frowned, but knew Sharon was probably right. “They were nice kids. Probably the nicest we’ve met so far. But there’ll be more kids in Ashland, Judy. I promise you that.”
The cousins shared a long hug and got ready for a decent night’s sleep, in a decent room, on decent sheets and two decent pillows each.
As if someone stood next to him and snapped directly in his ear, Wilson’s eyes shot open. He quickly sat up in the soft bed. Next to him, Tiny snored and moaned. The lamp had burned out somewhere in his slumber, leaving the room dark, entirely black. Shaking his head, he threw his feet onto the floor and rose to get dressed.
Sitting alone outside the front of the former hotel, now called a ‘hostel’, Wilson focused on the eastern horizon. A sliver of pink peeked through. Soon the tint would turn more orange, followed by daylight. As always, he was the only person moving this early in the morning. It never failed. But unlike other mornings, today he was lost in the last dream of the night. Actually, he was haunted by the sequence his brain had delivered.
Solemnly, he rubbed his face and contemplated getting a haircut before they left Eau Claire. Captain Wayne had been thrilled yesterday by the appearance of the kids. Surely he could see his way to throwing in a free trim for Wilson. Last night before bed, he had bathed in a large tub filled with warm water from the community’s solar heating efforts. While it felt good to be clean, a haircut would help Wilson feel even more alive.
A small figure appeared in the distance, heading his way. Squinting, he tried to make out the person, but it was still too dark. Five seconds later, he recognized the wandering soul and patted the bench next to where he sat.
“May as well sit down with me. Last chance before we split,” he said, offering a small smile. Miranda took her seat and stared at her hands. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
“There were people moving around already,” she replied in a tiny voice. “They told me to put this on, but said I didn’t have to go help at all today. Something about orientation today and tomorrow.” Miranda was less than happy this morning, something Wilson picked up on right away.
“I wasn’t gonna mention that snappy outfit,” he began with a grin, which made Miranda smile, too. Gone was her sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers. In their place, she wore a light-blue dress that covered her from collarbone to toe. Around it was a crisp white smock that went down to almost the hem of the dress. Her feet were adorned with new yet dull brown ankle boots.
Miranda shook her head slightly. “I don’t even know where my regular clothes are this morning. I guess someone took them during the night.” She turned and gazed at Wilson. “Maybe to wash ‘em?”
He didn’t have a clue obviously.
“Well, at least those are clean. Kinda spiffy looking, if you ask me.” He let out a small chuckle.
Miranda’s face lightened. “Not much for dresses really. I haven’t had one on since last fall sometime. Early fall I think it was. For church.”
“What’s the rest of your gang up to?” Wilson asked.
Miranda shrugged. “After dinner, they separated me from the boys. Said I needed to be with the other girls now.” She snuck a glance at Wilson as he enjoyed the dawn of a new day. “I guess they’re all going out to plant today. Most of this week they said.” She stared at Wilson’s face; he was lost somewhere between a dream and the moment.
“That makes sense,” he said, casting a quick glance her way. “’All hands on deck’, as they used to say. Takes a lot of people to plant 400 acres. A lot.”
Miranda agreed with a nod.
“I had a dream about you last night, Jim.” Her voice was so small, he hardly recognized it. “More of a bad dream. I dreamt you guys got split up after you left and you got attacked by bears, or wolves.” She stared at him. “I don’t remember which one. But they were eating you.” He turned and noticed a few moist tears sliding down her pale cheeks.
“Just a dream. Our brains are funny like that,” he replied. “We don’t have no control over what they tell us when we sleep.” His face screwed up looking away from the girl’s stare.
Miranda sat quietly, again staring at her tiny hands. “You’re leaving today?”
Wilson nodded as she spoke.
“As soon as the others wake up their sorry butts and we eat something. Then we gotta hit the food place and get our provisions.” He spoke almost as quietly as Miranda had. “Start to wander north from here. Be in Ashland in a couple months if we’re lucky. Maybe spend the winter there.” He smiled sadly. “Just have to see.”
Miranda rose and stood in front of him. “I need to get back. They said we had breakfast at sunrise.” She nodded towards the eastern sky. “Be careful. Watch out for bad people and wild animals.”
Wilson rose to shake her hand, but she caught him off guard. She lunged into him and squeezed tightly. For a moment, Wilson stood with his arms by his side, not knowing how to respond. But the longer Miranda squeezed, he finally brought his arms around the young teen and returned her affection. He lightly kissed the top of her head and moved away.
“You take care now, little girl. Life will be good here. Live a long, long life, okay?” He could barely get the words out. More tears streamed down Miranda’s cheeks. She nodded with a small smile.
“You too, Jim,” she replied. Turning, she stopped and took a huge breath. Slowly she began her journey to her new life.
Wilson stood, statue-like, watching the girl leave. Checking his surroundings quickly, he wiped away the few tears that had escaped. He didn’t want anyone to witness his humanity.
From nowhere, he recalled the dream that had snapped him awake. He was sitting at the breakfast table with his mom and dad, watching them chat happily as his brothers picked on each other with forks. And next to him, eating quietly and holding his hand, was Julie.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Okay, finish eating you two. Judy and I will go grab our stuff and meet you out front in 10 minutes or so.” Sharon spoke as she rose from the old chair and table. The furniture had seen better days. The wood table had chips and gouges covering its entire top. And the chairs were sticky, like kids had played with them before washing food from their hands.
“Jim,” Judy asked, wiping the last of her eggs from mouth. “Do you have the supply form from Captain Wayne?” Wilson dug it from his back pocket and showed it to the women.
“And me and Tiny’s packs are over in the corner there, ready to roll,” Wilson replied to the pair. “So whenever you’re ready to shove off, we’ll be too.” The two disappeared from the dining hall and Wilson watched Tiny shovel scrambled eggs into his large mouth.
“Hey Jim,” Tiny said, with his mouth still half full of food. “You suppose they’d let us say goodbye to the kids this morning?”
Wilson scowled at his friend.
“You got all your goodbyes in last night after supper, you big baby,” Wilson replied sarcastically. “You don’t see Judy or Sharon being all blubbery over those kids this morning, do ya?” He shook his head at Tiny. Soft-hearted fool, he grimaced to himself.
Judy leaned against the dirty hall entrance with her fists clenched tightly. Sharon slowly shook her head at her cousin.
“No. No more goodbyes. You’re already too attached to them. And Jim will freak out if you bring it up.” Sharon reached out and sympathetically stroked Judy’s forearm. “We need to move on. It’s best.” Judy chased off several tears and finally nodded in agreement.
The supply bursar studied his piles carefully. For a third time, he checked the counts against the list. “Three pounds of carrots, three pounds of beans. Two pounds each of apples, pears, blueberries, and cherries.” He looked up briefly to see Wilson and Sharon counting along with him. “A five-pound bag of wheat flour, and a five-pound bag of wild rice.
”
Wilson pointed at the piles. “No meat there, bud,” he said. “Twelve pounds of beef jerky will just about top this off.”
The bursar’s head shook. “No, 10 pounds. We only got five pound bags of jerky. And if I give you 15, I can’t give you nothing else.” He pointed at the list in Wayne’s handwriting. “And it says here I need to give you two bags of fire starters and a big bag of matches.” He stared at Wilson. “So you want five more pounds of dried out chewy beef? Or the other stuff?”
Wilson smirked at his group. “You make it sound so tempting. Give us 10 and the rest then.”
Carefully, they packed the new provisions in the two large bags. Splitting it equally between the two ensured them a back-up. If they somehow lost a bag, they’d still have half.
“Tiny,” Wilson yelled. “Put that older stuff on top. Save the newer food for later.” Tiny agreed as he threw in a large handful of newer pears into his mouth. He loved pears, Wilson knew. And these new ones appeared to be mighty tasty.
Fully loaded and now ready, the group did a quick sweep of the area to be sure nothing would be left behind. Satisfied, they left the building and stepped into the morning’s sun and warmth. Wilson looked at the sky.
“Gonna be warm today,” he said, adjusting his pack to the center of his back. “Might not even need a sweatshirt by afternoon.” The others agreed and they began the next leg of their journey. North through the heart of the community, then east to road 27, as Wilson called it. Judy referred to it as Highway 27.
Starting down the center of the road, Wilson could feel the excess weight in the pack. It made him smile because it meant extra food and provisions. Looking around, he noticed Judy and Sharon weren’t following. He stopped and called back. “Coming, you two?”
Sharon smiled and shook her head. “You’re headed south, Jimmy,” she replied. “North is the other way.” She waved her arm the opposite direction.
Wilson and Tiny turned to start again. “Judy could’ve yelled that out right away,” he scoffed as they met up with the women.
Within two miles, they came to the edge of the northern fields that were ready for crops. They stopped and quietly scanned the dark, black soil. The teams were lined up in rows and had begun their planting. In two of the nearest fields, at least 50 younger residents were bent over, depositing seeds and seedlings into the ground. The group watched as the teams made their way slowly down the fields.
Jim noticed Judy sneak a peek at Sharon. Sharon stood silently studying the two fields, her face wrought with something bothersome.
“Not sure what they’re doing over here,” Wilson started, pointing to his left. “But the other one looks like tomatoes.” He squinted, studying the field closer. “I don’t think they’ll plant that many tomatoes though. Do you, Sharon?” No answer. “Sharon?” he asked again.
Scanning all fields within sight, Sharon turned and pointed at the closest one. “Jim, what do you see out there?” she asked quietly.
Wilson shrugged. “I see a bunch of kids hard at work.”
“What kind of kids?” she asked, turning towards the group.
Judy’s head moved slowly. “Girls. All girls,” she answered in a whisper.
Wilson rescanned the fields more closely. All of the planters, every last one of them, wore the exact same outfit Miranda had on when she met Wilson that morning. The only addition was the white sunbonnet adorning each head. Wilson frowned.
“Must have the boys out in the chicken barns or tending to the cattle,” Wilson claimed, turning west to those areas. His face tensed when he noticed only more blue dresses in both spots.
A man rode by on a horse and Wilson flagged him down. “Hey buddy,” he started. “How come all we see is young girls out in the fields? Where’s the boys?”
The rider looked where Wilson pointed. “The boys are all in school this morning,” he replied. “They’ll be out watering later on.” The group’s faces lightened. His story made sense.
“So the girls go to school in the afternoon then,” Sharon stated. The rider looked back at her oddly.
“No. They’ll be working in the chicken coops this afternoon,” he answered, shaking his head.
Judy stared at the man, mystified. “When do the girls go to school then?”
“They don’t.” He spurred his horse and trotted away.
Tiny stepped away from the group towards the nearest field. “Hey Jimmy,” he called back. “Who are the fellows in the fields with guns you suppose?” Tiny pointed to the far side of the field.
Wilson covered his brow with his hand and scanned all the fields again. “Guards I would think,” he answered, far too softly for Tiny to hear. “Looks like two per field.” Now Wilson began marching towards one of the men in the fields.
Wilson called out as he came closer to the guard. “Hey mister?” The man turned. “What’s with the guns?” The guard did a quick scan of the field before answering.
“We’re the protection out here for all these young ladies,” he replied. “Someone’s got to keep them safe.” Wilson and Tiny now stood next to the man.
Wilson thought before speaking again. Checking behind, he could tell they weren’t more than 80 yards from the nearest community dwelling.
“Kinda close to the heart of things to need much protection, I would think,” he stated, watching the guard on the other side of the field.
“Well,” the guard started, “you never know when some trouble might sneak in.” He paused and carefully counted planters to himself. “Or,” he continued, “when a group of planters may decide they’ve had enough.” Pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, he nodded. “All there.”
Sharon and Judy had joined the group by now and looked shocked at the guard’s last words. “You mean you’re not just protecting them? Sharon asked.
“Lady, sometimes they need a little motivation out here.” It seemed he wasn’t getting through to the women, so he turned his focus their way. “We tried this a few years back without any supervision. Some of those kids didn’t work at all. Some had to do all the work. But they all stole seeds to plant at the homes.” He shrugged. “Gotta watch out for that.” Now he had everyone’s attention.
“And only the girls work out here?” Wilson asked. The guard nodded, still watching his flock. “And they don’t go to school?” The man turned and faced him.
“Why would they need school? They either work in the fields, or in the barns, or in the processing facilities. Otherwise, they’re just supposed to have kids. That’s all.” He turned his attention back to the field. “Now if you don’t mind, I got work to do.” Slowly, he walked away.
Judy was on the verge of tears. Sharon looked pissed. Tiny and Wilson stared at one another, not believing what they had just heard. Collectively, their eyes moved from group member to group member. Finally, Wilson looked down and thought.
“This don’t make no sense to me. I thought Wayne said they all went to school,” Wilson said. The others agreed quickly. “But from what that guy just said, that don’t sound that way.” He studied the field carefully again. “That means Randa…”
“Is either a farmhand or a baby machine.” Sharon finished his sentence. She stared at Wilson intensely.
“What are we supposed to do?” he asked flatly.
“We got to do something,” Sharon answered. “This wasn’t the deal, right?” Judy and Tiny nodded their agreement. Wilson’s face showed he wasn’t convinced one way or the other.
“But who are we, Sharon, to go marching back in there asking questions?” Wilson had a point; at least he thought he did. “We gave them up and got supplies in return. Deal’s done, right?”
Sharon’s eyes flared.
“Jimmy,” she replied harshly. “These are children we’re talking about. Not some broach or gold ring. They’re living, breathing, human beings.”
Wilson’s eyes narrowed.
“But we done the deal. We took his food. Slept in his place and ate his stuff.”
He glanced around his group at his angry friends.
“Jim,” Judy screamed, exasperated. He held up his hand.
“No Judy, just wait a minute. Let me finish.” She agreed. “He said they’d all be taken care of. They’d have food, a place to sleep, a place to call home, friends. And look around.” He waved his arms and spun in a circle. “They’re safer here than most any place we’ve ever been.” He frowned before continuing. “It may be the best place for them. Right?”
Sharon and Judy eyed each other silently. The cousin’s unspoken bound strengthened as they thought. Finally, Judy stepped next to Wilson.
“Jim. Please try and understand,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “We know you care about those kids almost as much as we do.” He shook his head and looked at Tiny. Judy’s small hand guided his face back to hers. “We know how much you care about her, Jim. We could see it, Sharon and I could. It’s okay. We know she reminded you of Julie.” Wilson tore his hand from Judy’s and walked away quickly.
“You know what I did with Julie 16 years back?” he tossed at them angrily. “You have any idea?” The women shook their heads. “I left her, too. Didn’t I, Tiny?” Staring at the ground, Tiny nodded sadly.
“You know why I did that?” Wilson shouted. They just stared at him. “‘Cause she’d be safer that way, that’s why.” He paced, away from the group. “And that’s the way it’s gotta be with this one, too.”
Judy approached him one last time. “And what if it’s three against one? What if we all want those children? What if we agree to care for them all the way to Ashland, and beyond?” She asked all this in a soft but firm tone.
“Well,” he said to Judy, “if we vote, majority rules. Just like always. That don’t mean I gotta agree with it or like it.” He snuck a quick peek at Sharon and Tiny. They stood off to the side, lost in a quiet conversation to themselves.
“I already know Tiny is with Sharon and me,” Judy said.