by Paul Lynch
Maurice came into the tent and lay down and after a minute he got up again and went out and when he came back to the door again he spoke.
That’s it boys. I ain’t hanging about.
One of the men told him to go and fuck himself then and he said he wasn’t hanging about with yous fucking lot either and he asked for someone to send him out his belongings. His plate came out at arm’s reach towards him and he took it and stuffed it down the back of his pants. I’m gonna take my chances and go and walk towards Philly, he said. Two shites and yous know where to stick the shovel.
The men laughed and told him he was crazy and he laughed too and said surely it was the other way round.
Coyle could not sleep and he listened to the men begin to talk and question Maurice’s meaning, bother and uncertainty in their voices.
Maybe he’s right, said a voice.
Naw, said another. He was outside getting sick and shitting. He should be lying down so he should.
Well I didn’t come here to die, said another.
Well what are you gonna do about it?
I’m gonna follow him so I am.
Off you go then. We’ll follow you.
I don’t know the way.
Me neither.
I thought you wanted to go.
Aye but I want to know where I’m going first.
I’m quittin tomorrow so I am. I don’t care about that Duffy so I don’t.
I’ll leave in the morning too.
That Duffy took us here. Why can’t he take us away again?
That no good son of a bitch.
I’m going with ye but I’ll not leave without my money. I didn’t come here to work to be broke.
Aye we’ll get our monies first.
A WARY MOON AND ITS GLOSS thin and he came upon a road and followed, a track leading darkly away from it, and he turned and followed till he came upon a farm. He tipped his hat politely to the man who answered the door warily and he told him he was lost and had an injury.
They took him in, the name’s Aitken Clay, the man said offering his hand, his voice deep and familiar, and this here’s my family—my wife Martha and these here are my children Mark, Matthew and little Martha minor and they’re near ready for bed.
Two fair and freckled boys looked at Faller shyly and a little girl in pigtails and ribbons stared up at him and beamed.
Faller smiled thinly. I came to this area to do some hunting and in the forest somebody, I don’t know who, or why, well, they shot at me, he said. Naturally I fell off my horse and the animal bolted taking all my things and this is all I have.
Martha shook her hair-bunned head and looked at him with her eyes sympathetic and blazing. What kind a fool would shoot at a man like that? she said, and her husband beside her nodded.
He looked towards Faller. Somebody not looking at what he was shooting at I’d say. We’ll get you attended to mister, he said. What did you say yer name was?
John Faller.
Well Mr. Faller I’m trying to figure out. Where did this happen?
About ten miles west I do believe. I have been uncertain of my bearings all day since it happened. And now I would be obliged if you would let me fix my wound and then eat some food if you will permit me.
Martha nodded to his leg. Is that there where you were hurt?
She went out back and returned with a basin and pitcher and she put them down in front of him. She went away again and came back with some clean cloth and she bent down to help him take off his boot. He pulled his leg away from her.
I can tend to it myself thank you, he said.
He stood and took a lamp and limped out to the back step. He took off his coat and slipped the gun out of his belt and put it under the coat beside him. The steps of a child behind him and he knew he was being watched and then little Martha sat down alongside. He spoke without looking at her.
Is there a fire lighting inside, Martha minor? he asked.
Yes, said the girl.
Ask your father then to bring me a hot poker.
Why?
Be a good girl.
He moved his coat closer to his body and the girl stood up and ran inside. He sat and listened to the cicadas call the night and then he heard the wooden boards remark when Aitken appeared on the porch behind him. Little Martha minor says you want yourself a hot poker. Is that so’s to fix your leg?
Yes. Would you mind bringing it to me? And perhaps some alcohol if you have some.
The man paused as if to say something and he turned on his heel and went inside and came back out with the metal glowing. Faller turned around and seized the iron and held it before him and with his other hand he pinched the wound. Aitken leaned over to see, saw him fold the skin and begin to sear it, steam serpent rising from skin and he flinched at the sight. Faller continued oblivious until the other side was wealed. Aitken went inside and he came back out with a glass of whiskey and he passed it to him and he had one for himself and slugged it. All I got, he said.
Faller began to fold his leg in cloth and little Martha minor walked over and sat beside him and Aitken stepped inside. She looked up at the towering height of him.
I’m four and one quarters. At my next birthday I’ll be five.
Faller turned and stared at her face and then he looked at her small hands that held a jar. Inside was a green-barked frog keeping still. She shook the jar but the frog didn’t move.
I want him to jump, she said.
Are you going to keep him in there till he dies?
The girl looked at the jar and her eyes puzzled.
I’m just keeping it.
Let me tell you something, animals don’t like to be hemmed in you know.
Why’s that?
It goes against their nature.
She looked at the jar and looked up at him and held it out. Would you like to take it?
No I don’t want to take it.
Why not?
I don’t have any use for it.
The girl frowned and she looked at the jar and stood up and ran inside. Aitken appeared behind him. I would offer you a fresh shirt but you appear to be a good size bigger than I am, he said.
I am fine as I am.
Would you like to sit at the table for some supper?
Please.
He took a piece of meat and some potatoes and a piece of corn and he began to eat them in silence. He took a loaf of bread and he sawed it and he started to chew on the crust. The children watched and whispered and the mother scolded and told them to stop whispering. The boys stopped and then they were heard again and Aitken’s voice smarted. Speak up, he said. The boys went silent. Tell us what you were saying.
Nothing papa.
Martha scolded with her eyes. If it is good enough for you two to talk about it is good enough for the table.
The other boy spoke up, the words sliding awkward out of his mouth. Mark said the man didn’t say grace mama.
Faller chewed his food and then he looked up at Aitken. Fine boys you have there, he said.
Thank you Mr. Faller.
Yes. Fine boys indeed.
Tomorrow I can take you into town, Aitken said. I’ll have the team hitched for an early start. I’m going in anyways as I’ve some things to do.
Yes that will be good.
First light, the man said. Do you mind me asking, Mr. Faller, it’s just that you are not from these parts.
Go on.
What took you to these parts for hunting?
Faller sawed another slice of loaf and buttered it and he began to chew and then supped on a glass of water. He looked up at Aitken and smiled. A very troublesome creature.
Aitken looked at him and confusion lit his face and he looked at his wife and then he began to smile. Ah, the buck. Yes? Slippery creature so he is. Some fellas say the buck is more gamey. But I can detect no real difference between the meat of a doe and that of a buck myself.
Martha stood up and looked at the children.
You must exc
use us, it is time to take these children to bed.
Aitken stood up and Faller stayed sitting down and as the children stood up there came three raps loudly on the front door. The family looked at each other and then they looked at Faller who was watching his food and he put his knife down and leaned back in his chair. He looked towards Aitken. Expecting? he said.
Aitken looked at his wife and she looked back. He shrugged and looked at the clock on the wall. Nope. Not at this hour.
When you go to the door and they ask you if you have anyone with you other than your own family you are to say you do not. Do you understand?
Aitken’s face flashed white then crimson and his eyes went funny and Faller leaned back in the chair again and opened the side of his coat to reveal his gun.
Just in case you be thinking otherwise.
Aitken swallowed and he did not look at his wife and he turned to answer the door. They listened to the wooden boards receive his steps with a moan like the boards themselves could speak for him, then the long squeak of the door opening slowly. The voice of a man, low. They heard Aitken speak and the other man spoke a minute and then the door was closed. Faller looked at the children. Aitken returned to the room. He spoke and his voice had changed. It was tight and trembling.
I done all I can but they said they know you are here and that you ain’t gone anyplace else. But they won’t come in because they know I got family. Believe me Mr. Faller I don’t care for who you are or for what cause these men say they want you for, for that’s none of my business, but they’re serious-looking men and they say they’re bounty hunters so please don’t do anything to hurt my children. Will you please go outside and talk with them?
Faller looked at him and leaned forward for the bread again and began to saw.
THEY WATCHED THE HANDS of the mantelpiece clock climb slowly, the pendulum licking time like a lazy lizard’s tongue and nobody among that family hardly daring to breathe let alone talk and after fifteen minutes the clock took a deep mechanical breath and chimed nine. Aitken stirred and took courage and he blessed himself out loud and he began to lead a prayer and his wife and children clasped their hands and followed. Faller watched the man’s chinbeard pointing upwards and the earnestness in the gray lids of his eyes that seemed to flicker imperceptibly and when they blessed themselves and were finished they opened their eyes to find Faller staring at them.
Does he ever talk to you? he said.
Aitken looked at him nervously. Who?
God.
Aitken looked at his wife and then he looked at the door. In ways, he said.
In what ways?
In the beauty that’s all around us.
Faller smiled. But that’s hardly talking to you directly now is it? If you died the world would go on exactly as it was before so really nobody is talking to you at all. And do you look forward to life after death?
Yes sir I do.
Well let me tell you something about that. If you were looking forward to life after death why would you be praying now?
The man’s words stumbled in his mouth. Because I want my family to live. I want to live for my family.
But the fact remains is that you’re afraid of dying. If your heaven was paradise and the life ever after you’d be in a rush to get there. Wouldn’t you now? But you’re not. Isn’t that strange?
Faller looked at the children and smiled. Don’t you think your parents are strange?
The children looked at him blankly.
This place called heaven, this realm of perfection and life everlasting. When it comes down to it, nobody ever wants to go there. Now isn’t that strange? I’ll tell you what I’ve seen. I’ve seen faith fall apart at the moment of death. I’ve seen people fight it in every way how. I’ve seen the terror in their eyes. The scratching, the squirming. If god is life ever after then why is it nobody ever wants to go to him and meet him? I’ll tell you what I think. On a deep instinctive level, on a level that people prefer not to listen to, people do not believe in god. And I would have to agree.
He looked at Aitken who was sitting with his mouth open and his wife who had covered with her hands little Martha minor’s ears.
Don’t you think then that prayer is an amusing contradiction?
Silence swelling to take the place of the man’s words and then from outside came a man’s voice shouting.
You come out mister or we’re comin in.
Faller stood and took off his coat and folded it and placed it on the chair. He reached down and drew his gun with his right hand and he reached into a pocket and took out extra ammunition and he put it on the table.
One more minute and we’re comin.
Faller nodded in the direction of the voice. I wonder if he’s religious?
Aitken blanched and he stood to move his children and Faller told him to sit and the man wavered as if the air around him had thickened right then to a mucilage miring his feet and with the effort of wading he sat down. Faller picked up his gun and tipped it forward to examine it and the family stared at it too like it was something dead or monstrous in his hand and Martha began to cry.
I told you we’re coming.
THE RASP OF A DOOR opening slow on its hinges and board squeak from the men stealing in. Faller stood and turned and collared the little girl beside him with his left hand and lifted her out of the grasp of her mother clean into the air. He hoisted her in front of his body and he turned towards the door and the little girl screamed and her mother scrambled the air with her hands towards her. Faller kicked her back down and then the men from outside were coming in, their rifles pointed in the door and the first man paused as he came through to take in the sight of the girl hanging in the air in front of him and in the moment of his hesitation Faller shot him dead. The man’s legs collapsed from under him and Faller dropped the child into a swing and launched her into the air at the other man taking aim with his gun and the man recoiled in horror as the child flew towards him, dropped the weapon to catch the child as she crashed into him and Faller was already on top of him as they fell to the ground and he smiled into the man’s eyes and fired the other round into his head. He looked up towards the hall and took the man’s rifle and swung smoothly upwards on the ball of his foot and then he was out the door.
Lamplight on the yard like spilt buttermilk. He saw the shape of another man leaping upon a saddle and he aimed the rifle and shouted at the man to hold still. The man did nothing on the horse but put his hands into the air and Faller went to him, an Indian man in a suit with long glossy hair knotted in a tail, and the man mumbled words that he was only a tracker.
Get off the horse.
The man did as he was told and he swung his leg back over the beast and when he turned around Faller shot him in the stomach. The man crumpled and fell and curled on the ground and Faller kicked his involuting body open and checked him for arms, found a bowie knife and threw it. He went to the man’s horse and tied it to the fence and he walked around to the back of the house where a barn stood beside it and he went in and untied Aitken’s horse. He walked the animal around to the front and found the two horses belonging to the dead men and he shooed those three horses into the night and kept the Indian’s horse for himself. He stepped over the dying man and went into the house. The family were huddled in a corner and only Aitken wasn’t crying. The two dead men lay by the door and Faller bent to them and began to nose their pockets. He took the men’s wallets and examined their contents and he emptied their cash and left the notes and the wallets on the table. He took his coat from the chair and put it on and he bent down towards them, held them with a blank stare and smiled.
HE SAT UP AND WATCHED the sun blood the canvas of the tent. The smothered sounds of sleep and the whimpers of the sick. He hears also from another place the pounding of the rain like drumming fingers and the sigh of the soaking earth, hears the sloshing surf polishing the bay. Thinks of the Inishowen wind curling cold on his ears and he hears voices too, the swirl of his mother cry
ing when his father did not come back, the booming call of Jim, the way Sarah would gather the tinder and bundle them into neat lines, the child hiding in the churn. Oh the small place left behind unfolding into a universe. His ear cocked to the absence of it.
HE ROSE BEFORE THE OTHERS and went to the water station and dipped the canister and slugged. Duffy usually the first about but his horse was not tied to the post. A fire began to wink at the blacksmith’s small forge and he walked over to ask, met the man supping on a tin cup, his fingers black and his apron burnt. The blacksmith shook his head to the question. Haven’t seen him not since yesterday.
He walked to the firepit and futhered with his hands and he looked to the west of the valley where the darkness was being stirred bright. The men staggered from their tents and they went about eating and he heard two of them say they were leaving. He watched them head off to find the foreman and then return cursing when he was not to be found.
No sign of The Cutter either and he went to look for him. He looked in the tent and went back again to the pit and the others just shrugged and then one of them said he saw him go behind the shanty and pointed. He found the man behind the tents bent on his knees and clutching. Oh god, Coyle said. The Cutter smiled weakly, his pants around his ankles and his face waxen. He whispered. Just gimme a minute.
He looked at him and bent down to help him get up and The Cutter went to stand but was weak and fell over. Can you get me some water?
Coyle went away and came back with a canister and he gave it to The Cutter to drink. The water sluiced down the rocks of his jaw onto his shirt and when he was done Coyle took the canister back off him. The Cutter hitched up his trousers and fumbled at the button and he wiped his mouth and Coyle slung an arm underneath him. Over here. He helped him to the tent where he made him lie down and then he went off to get more water.
The morning began to stretch with no sign of Duffy and no sign of Doyle either and some of them said they were going to work regardless and they walked up to the cut. Others sat about saying they were doing nothing till they were told what to do and when they saw The Cutter was sick in their tent they told him to get out. They sat about idle, smoking their pipes and some of them watching Coyle carry The Cutter to the sick tent while others pitched into their whiskey oblivious.