by E A Lake
I turned just as Violet stormed inside and slammed the door. “What a pig!” she screamed as she stormed past me.
I peeked back at my injured pawn. Shit, he was a bad choice. A bad choice for anything, except perhaps to repopulate the world.
Day 1,152
I had wanted to leave at sunrise. I had also wanted to leave the week before. But Wilson, the weather and the tiniest member of the household had other plans.
Wilson returned from his visit with news that was both satisfying and puzzling. Covington had burned about two weeks earlier. That was 10 days or so after the Weston’s had taken Daisy.
According to Wilson’s friend, he thought the Weston’s had done the burning. But that’s where it became confusing. One man spoke of the Weston’s and all of their help (and perhaps Daisy, too) loaded in wagons headed due north before the fire began. Another person, gender unknown, claimed they were there and watched Matt Weston lead his team in starting the blaze.
All we could draw from the information was that in all likelihood, Daisy was alive. And that was good enough for me.
The next morning brought rain, just as Lettie had predicted. And of course, it began as snow. By the time the rain finally arrived, late in the afternoon, the world around us was covered in a pure white sheath. Libby loved it; I seethed watching the child play in the first slush of the season.
It rained for the next four days after the snow. Sometimes it was just a drizzle, the kind of moisture that coats the world and its inhabitants in what looks like a thin layer of sweat. Although this sweat chilled to the bone.
All out downpours ensued, and by the time they stopped, even I was ready to pack up and head back to the cabin. But to my surprise, Violet insisted we not give up hope. I almost laughed at her comment. Hope faded from my soul with each sunset.
The rain was gone. The road dried with the help of a strong southern breeze. All signs pointed towards an early morning departure. And then Hope lost it.
Refusing to take the bottle of goat’s milk from Lettie, she instead chose to scream her head off. And it was some of her best lung clearings to date.
Standing beside Violet, I cringed every time Hope spit the nipple out of her lips. “What does she want?” I asked, glancing briefly at Violet.
“What she always wants,” she answered with a certain amount of disdain.
I shook my head and shrugged. No clue.
“The boob, you idiot,” she answered, not holding back her disdain.
I couldn’t help grinning; too many clever things sprang to mind. “It’s probably not safe to take her with us,” I joked. That got a nasty look. “And you probably can’t leave those things behind.” I pointed at her chest, snickering as I did.
Violet turned on me, both literally and figuratively. “Oh, you are so funny,” she snarked, grabbing Hope from Lettie’s arms. She wandered towards the living room, pausing before disappearing from sight. “Get in here. We need to talk about this.”
Oh great, that meant she was going to talk and I was going to get a lecture. What was it this time, I wondered?
Violet had a habit of making her issues mine. Like all the time, every issue. Daisy hadn’t been much help with that, for me at least.
“She needs a man to listen to her,” Daisy would say whenever Violet and I butted heads. “She needs your understanding, Bob, not your criticism.”
And if only for Daisy’s sake, I followed my demander into her lair. What I noticed when I entered the room was more than I bargained for though.
“How about a shirt, Violet,” I seethed, covering my eyes.
“It’s just opened, Robert. It’s hard to feed her through the fabric. And it’s not like you didn’t gawk at them the other day.”
“I never—” The words caught in my throat as I thought back. Shit, I had come inside the cabin after I assumed she and Libby were out of the shower and dressed. All I needed was to grab the pliers I’d left inside. Instead, I was treated to an eyeful of Violet, in all her glory.
“That was an accident,” I refuted, looking away, knowing she was grinning gleefully. She hadn’t hurried to cover up that fateful day, even after I spun away and raced out the door. I was sure her shirt was still wide open.
“I know we need to leave today,” Violet resumed, “and I don’t have a problem with it. But maybe if we stay another day, I can feed Hope from the bottle a couple times and that will make things easier on Grandma Lettie when we leave.”
Oh, how wonderful. Our departure was being held ransom by a child no more than six months old.
“One day,” I replied, probably sounding a little more pissed than needed. I held up a single finger. “One day, Violet. We leave tomorrow morning. Whether it is both of us, or just me. Got it?”
“I got it, Bob. I want to find her, too. You’re not the only one who misses her.”
I left the room, not sure where I was headed. But I really wondered if that new girl of mine was on my side…or on her own.
Day 1,152 - continued
One day turned into two, but finally we were off. I was barely to the end of the driveway when I thought I heard Hope screaming, refusing to take the bottle from Lettie. Violet assured me she was sound asleep, but I swear I could still hear that infant raising holy hell.
The sun was well above the tops of the trees. Our late start pissed me off enough that I gave my companion the silent treatment, not that she cared.
“What crawled up your butt and died?” Violet asked in a spiteful tone. Okay, maybe she had noticed. I was kind of growly when we said goodbye to Johnny Wilson at the gate.
I took the high road and gave her the silent treatment. It was either that or a knock-down drag-out shouting match all the way to our first stop, which was several days away.
“That’s fine if you don’t want to talk,” Violet chirped from behind. “I don’t want to listen to you bitch about whatever it is that has you all pissy this morning. Just fine with me.”
Refusing to take the bait, I led her down the road and the nearly four-hour walk to Covington, the first leg of our journey. Just north of town, we would jump on a set of abandoned railroad tracks that would offer a shortcut to our first destination. Wilson claimed it would save us at least a day.
Now, if Violet would just keep her mouth shut, I thought I could loosen some of the anger knotted in my soul. But that would have been like expecting a mama grizzly bear to leave me alone as I skinned one of her cubs, still alive and kicking.
“You know,” she began anew some minutes later, “none of this is really my fault. It’s not like I told the Weston’s to take Daisy. And I didn’t make it rain neither. And Hope being a little pill, well that’s just the way it goes with babies sometimes.”
Still, I pushed forward without a response. I wanted to focus on getting to the Ironwood fish camp without having to stop and fight with a smart-mouthed woman every mile or so. But of course, Violet had ideas of her own.
“Sometimes I wonder what Daisy saw in you.” Violet had waited at least another hour before starting in on me again. I had to give her credit for having that much patience.
“For a man, you can sure be moody at times.” The quips were coming quicker now. Barely 100 yards between loud sighs followed by her aggravating whiny voice.
“Are you gonna act like a little bitch all day long?” she added a few pace later. “Don’t tell me this is going to last the whole trip. I hate it when you act like this.”
I could tell she was saving something, storing up a good one that would have me exploding mid-stride.
“This is all your fault, you know.” That was it — go time!
I spun on my right heel and charged her with three quick strides. She waited patiently, arms crossed, unafraid of any wrath I might have for her.
“Oh,” she snarked. “I guess you were paying attention. For the last hour, I had thought you’d gone deaf.”
I jabbed a finger into her left collarbone.
“Listen to me
, little girl…” I knew that would get her attention. “I’m mad because we’re at least a week late in heading out. You purposely diddled around with Hope just to stall. And you know damn well I wanted to leave at sunup, not noon.”
She shoved me away with both hands. “We lost one extra day because of Hope, don’t be so dramatic. It’s a three-day hike to Ironwood, so it didn’t matter if we were a couple hours late getting out the door.”
Separated by three feet, we stared at one another. I knew she would break first; silence killed her.
“And it’s not all your fault,” she finally said, her tone not as bitter as before. “But you weren’t there when they took Daisy. So it sort of is.”
Shit, she sure knew where to strike. “I wasn’t there because I was off chasing Barster. You know that.”
She stared at me, her lips twisted as she considered her next torture.
“Well, the Weston’s thank you for that.” Ugh, a shot to the gut.
I stepped a little closer to her. “You claim you love me, yet you act like you hate me most of the time. It’s a little confusing, Violet. Don’t you agree?”
A small shake of her head was all I got for a response. Pulling her pack higher on her back, she pushed past me.
“Come on,” she said. “We don’t have all day to stand around and chat. We need to keep moving.”
As I watched her march down the road ahead of me, I considered pulling my gun and shooting her. Or myself.
Day 1,153
Mid-afternoon of day two, we hid in some brush a number of miles northwest of Covington. Staring at the multi-colored leaves, I used my ears to relocate the danger.
Beside me Violet knelt, clutching my arm. I watched as her eyes moved from side to side, tipping her head to the same sound I heard. She nodded once and pointed the direction the men were approaching from.
We scampered in a low crouch and hid behind a massive black pine. With our backs against the base, we waited for our predators to give up their search.
The day had begun nicely. When Violet awoke, she was in a good mood - great mood actually. And why shouldn’t she be so happy? She had finally had a night alone with me.
I awoke with my arm wrapped around her thin form, under the same blanket we had used to keep out the night chill. When I tried to remove my arm and rise, Violet grabbed it and pulled it tighter to her. In that moment, I realized she had everything she wanted, even if I wanted something different.
About two hours later trekking down the road, we spotted the first danger of our trip. Ahead, maybe a quarter-mile or so, two figures rounded the corner. We stopped, so did they. I searched the forest for a hiding spot and found many.
When they began trotting in our direction, both Violet and I decided not to wait for their arrival. Perhaps they were friendly folks, just wanting to chat. But I didn’t think I wanted any unnecessary contact with strangers on the road. Especially two who seemed in a hurry to make our acquaintance.
“You can come out,” someone called through the woods. One of the two, I figured. “Me and Pudding just want to see if you have any extra food to share. That’s all.”
I glanced at Violet. She gave me a puzzled look. “Pudding?” she mouthed before shaking her head.
What the heck. There were all types in the UP. One of Weston’s’ thieves went by Ringo. Clyde Barster’s second had the name of Jimmy Darling. So sure, Pudding was different, but not anything that would have caused me to leap up and shout, “Who the hell goes by the name Pudding?”
Though the brush patch we chose to hide in was large, we couldn’t expect to avoid detection all day. I needed a plan. I peeked over the top of the vegetation and spotted the two a little ahead to our right. Searching for an alternate route, I found plenty of brush to cover my body. If I moved when they moved, I figured they’d never hear me. And maybe I could get behind them and end the threat.
“If you make this too hard, I might be upset by the time we find you,” the same voice called out again. “You don’t want to see me when I’m mad.”
Hell, I didn’t want to see him ever.
I leaned close to Violet’s face. “You stay put. I’m going to sneak out of the woods and get in behind them. I can probably chase them off that way.”
Her face tensed as she considered my plan. “Shoot them if you have to. Don’t take any chances.”
I wasn’t planning on shooting anybody, not today at least. But I kept that to myself.
I turned and began my crawl to the opening some 50 yards to the south. Violet grabbed me from behind and I came back.
“What?” I whispered.
“Be careful,” she replied, leaning in and kissing me. I let her. I figured, if this was my Waterloo, then I might as well have one last earthly smooch.
Every few steps, I rose a little to make sure they weren’t on to me. I’d gotten almost to the edge of the woods unnoticed.
I worried that they might find Violet’s hiding spot before I sprang my attack on them. But even if they did, I could still get to them before they could do any harm. Besides, Violet knew how to take care of herself; she’d proven that many times before.
At the southern edge of the dense forest, I rose and took cover behind a tree. They were closer than I’d expected, but not really all that close to where I’d left Violet. One of the two snapped his fingers and pointed at a spot 20 yards away from Violet.
“They’re behind there,” he said loudly enough for me to hear from my vantage point.
They tiptoed as stealthily as they could. I wondered if Violet had moved. Searching where she should have been, I noticed the red bandana around her neck. Those guys weren’t anywhere near her, I thought, relieved.
They sprang around their tree of choice and I watched as both faces fell.
“They ain’t here, you idiot,” the one said, slapping at the other. “You never were much of a tracker, were you?”
I crouched and began my hunt. Given the amount of talking and walking through the brush they were doing, sneaking up on them wouldn’t be a hard task.
“Where the hell are you two?” one shouted. “We just want you to share some food with us. Me and Phillip here ain’t had nothing to eat in two days.”
Close enough to hit them with my 45, I knelt and waited for them to turn their backs to me. After a moment of swearing and moaning, they turned away and began another sneaky approach in the opposite direction of both Violet and myself. I rose slowly, training my weapon on them.
“Hands up,” I shouted, seeing them both jump. “And keep them up, otherwise I start shooting.”
Their hands shot up instantly as they shared a scared gaze with each other.
“No sense in getting all haughty on us there, mister,” one said. “We’re just looking for food.”
Violet rose from her hiding spot and pulled the hammer back on Lettie’s old 30-30.
“What you two pieces of shit are doing is called stealing,” she spewed at the pair. “You’re nothing more than common road scum thieves. And I know lots of people who think scum like you should be shot on sight.”
Once again, Violet Luke and her nasty temper made me nervous.
“We don’t have to kill them, Violet,” I stated. She pointed her weapon at one, then the other. “We’ll just make our get away and they’ll leave us alone. Right, fellows?”
One man nodded, while the other turned to face Violet.
“You got a girl?” he asked in a high-pitched tone. “Hell, I thought it was a guy with a kid. We should have looked harder, Pudding. Maybe we could have got you that first kiss you been after so long for.”
I rubbed my eyes, roughly. These two were going to get shot if they didn’t shut up.
“And who the hell goes by Pudding?” Violet demanded. “What kind of messed up name is that?”
The taller one turned slightly to face Violet. “Well, it started when he was a little boy. His mama always called him Pudding because he was—”
“Shut up!”
Violet shouted. “I don’t care. No one cares. Just shut up.”
I stuffed my pistol behind my back as Violet inched closer with her rifle still trained on them.
“I’m going to check you two for weapons,” I said, beginning my pat down of Pudding.
“We ain’t got no weapons,” the tall one replied, shrugging at Violet. “We only got knives.”
“Knives are weapons,” Violet seethed. “What kind of stupid are you?”
I searched the other man and backed away, confused. “Why would you chase down two armed people without having a gun yourself?”
The man shrugged again, looking at me in an almost apologetic way. “We saw she had a gun; we weren’t sure about you. But who knew if you had bullets or not.”
Signaling Violet to join me, we began our walk back to the road.
“I want you two to lie down here,” I said, trying to sound more vicious than I felt. Truth was, I felt sorry for this pair. They weren’t very good highway robbers…or whatever they considered themselves to be.
“I want you two to count to 500 before you get up,” I continued. “Got it?”
They knelt and nodded their heads. That would have to do, as they seemed out of words.
“What a pair,” Violet said as we may our way out of the brush. “How have they managed to stay alive this long?”
I wondered that as well. I also wondering about the next pair we’d inevitably run into, and how well armed they would be.
Day 1,153 - continued
We slept that night deeper in the woods than we previously had. Trouble could find us closer to the road. More than 200 yards off the centerline, hidden behind piles of thick undergrowth, I felt safer.
We ate what we had: Dried beef, dried green beans and pieces of flatbread. It wasn’t a five-course meal served up by some snotty chef, but it beat the hell out of the venison we had most nights.