by LeMay, Jim
Billy chuckled. “Well, I do a lot a business with them folks. You gotta be kinda careful dealin’ with the mayor, Eleanor Coleridge, though – she’s a shrewd bitch – but it is a good harvest market. Folks come from all over. It’s a reg’lar town, with a church an’ school an’ ever’thing. Must be over two hunnert people livin’ there now. They honor nellies, but they ain’t worth quite as much as at Nellie’s Fair. The mayor sets their value.”
“When will y’ have some mules t’ sell?” said Mitch.
Billy shook his head. “When they git old enough t’ break next summer but I ain’t the only one that sells ’m. We’ll find y’ some horses somewheres if y’ need ’m afore then. Meantime, we got plenty a mules t’ loan y’ t’ carry your truck t’ market. We’re takin’ our extry harvest an’ some truck there this year so y’ can go ’long with us. We’ll send some cattle t’ Columbia too, but I’ll have some a the boys take ’m there. I ain’t too pop’lar with Chadwick since he stopped by here lookin’ for you-all.”
“Buck and Willard told us,” said Lou.
“How far is this Coleridge Gardens?” asked Matt. The name Coleridge seemed to tickle his memory, but the reason eluded him.
“’Bout fifteen miles,” said Billy. “Comfortable day’s walk with the mules t’ carry y’r truck.”
“What I’m wondering,” said Matt, “is if Kane’s Cove is about five miles upstream from the Missouri and Coleridge Gardens is another fifteen, given Chadwick came here looking for us how long will it take him to think of checking up there?”
Billy frowned. “I thought a that when Chadwick come up here. When him an’ his boys left, they went back the way they’d come, down the Grange, so I figgered Chadwick hisself prob’ly hadn’t been north a here. But he has a lot a men. I thought t’ m’self, what if some a them was alookin’ for y’ up there? I sent Buck an’ Willard t’ check for you on the Missouri. I went north t’ look for y’ m’self ’cause I know folks up there better ’n any a my folks does.
“I didn’t mention nothin’ t’ folks up there ’bout the trouble between y’rselves an’ Chadwick. If they ain’t heard nothin’, no sense a me tellin’ ’m. I did, though, ast ever’body if they’d heard anything ’bout a new gang showin’ up in the area, in case they’d a seen you boys, though I didn’t mention any a your names a course. An’ I ast if they’d seen anything a Chadwick’s men. They sure as hell know ’bout Chadwick, an’ most are purty nervous ’bout his doin’s. They hear how he’s takin’ over more land all ’round Columbia an’ c’lectin’ what he calls ‘taxes’ from folks. Yep, they shore know ’bout Chadwick.
“In Coleridge Gardens I went t’ see the Mayor, ol’ Ellie herself. An’ ast some other Coleridge folks. But nobody’d seen a new gang or anything a Chadwick’s men. I think maybe Chadwick don’t figger y’d be up in that country since y’ was so far west a there. Why would you come back east, closer t’ Columbia? I figger the only reason he come up the Grange t’ see us is that he knows we’re on the river a lot an’ might a seen y’. I think y’d be safe goin’ t’ the Coleridge market. He’ll be busy ’nough at his own market purty soon. Don’t know what he’s fixin’ t’ do after that though. What’re you fellers figgerin’ for your next move?”
“Gittin’ t’ hell outta here soon ’s possible,” said Doc. “Soon ’s we sell our truck.”
“We been talking about Colorado,” said Lou.
Billy laughed. “Glad I don’t have t’ go with y’ – the country b’tween here an’ there’s so bad a rabbit ‘d have t’ pack a lunch t’ git acrosst it. Your idee no doubt, Lou. You finally git t’ go home.” He turned serious. “Shore don’t blame you none for gittin’ out. Chadwick makes ever’body ’round here mighty nervous, ’cludin’ me. Some says he’s too big t’ fight – he’s got close on two hunnert toughs now they say – but we gotta decide somethin’ afore he gits even bigger.”
He scooted his chair back from the table and stood up. “But le’s look over your truck, see what y’ got I could use. We can spread it out on the open raft behind the house so we can see it better. Them rafts looks interestin’. I got a couple kids gittin’ married that need a place t’ make kids a their own. Y’r rafts might come in handy.”
Billy tried to shoo away the kids playing on the open raft though they stood around in the way to watch as the gang brought their rafts around to anchor to it. Billy helped transfer the truck to the open raft. None of the rest of his people were available; most were working in the fields.
Then Mitch and Billy began their horsetrading. Billy examined each piece critically, his face’s network of wrinkles clenched in a frown. When he found an item that interested him, he would describe its inferior quality and ask why they had even bothered with it in the first place. Because of their friendship, though he couldn’t honor Mitch’s asking price, he would gladly pay such-and-such just so they wouldn’t have to lug it all the way up to Coleridge Gardens where it would undoubtedly never sell. Mitch would retort that only their sagacity enabled them to find this treasure at all. If not for them, it would have remained buried in the ruins until it disintegrated into unusable trash. Since Billy was such a valued friend and colleague, however, they would let him have it for such-and-such, though they couldn’t sacrifice it for any less. Billy would counter by upbraiding Mitch for trying to take advantage of an old man as poor as he was, what with all the mouths he had to feed, though because of his great admiration and respect for Mitch and the gang he would come up to such-and-such an amount, though everyone knew he could ill afford it. Mitch would scoff at such an offer, describing all the harrowing dangers the gang had faced in transporting the item this far. The courage and tenacity they displayed in retrieval alone of this treasure added more value to it than the paltry sum Billy had insulted them with.
And so the haggling went, through midday and into the early afternoon, each man countering with more colorful and outrageous statements than before. Matt could tell that John figured out the horsetrading strategy early in the game and enjoyed it immensely.
Billy stopped before a full-length mirror that had been propped against the railing of the raft.
“Whoa, look at this!” he said. “I wouldn’t a thought you clumsy critters could ever a found somethin’ like this, let alone lug it this far without bustin’ it in a hunnert pieces.”
“First of all,” said Mitch, “I’ll have t’ admit that we have John t’ thank for findin’ the mirror...”
“I might a knowed!” said Billy. “I could tell this kid was the smartest one in the gang the minute I seen ‘im. Tell us how y’ come by this, John Moore.”
John shrugged and spoke shyly. “Wasn’t nothing really. I was looking for lumber for Stony and Doc to build the rafts one evening after dinner. In one of the houses by the river, I just happened to look inside one of those big closets some houses have...”
“A walk-in closet,” prompted Billy.
“Yeah. Anyhow I saw this mirror on the wall, took it down and carried it back to the barn where we were storing the truck. Asked Mitch if he thought it’d be worth something and he said yes.” Matt noticed John didn’t mention the two skeletons he had seen lying on the bed across the room from the closet. They appeared to have been holding hands. Skeletons were commonplace in many places; toward the end people died faster than they could be buried.
“You was right, John Moore,” said Billy. And to Mitch and the others, “I tell y’, this boy’s a born scrounger. It’s amazin’, though, that you klutzes got this here without bustin’ it all to hell.” He shook his head at the improbability of the act and continued, “I honestly ain’t in the market for such a thing – I got a couple now and if I had any more the women-folk ‘d waste even more time primpin’ an’ admirin’ theyselves than they do now – but all bullshit aside for thirty seconds, I ’low this’ll go over big in Coleridge Gardens.”
Mitch and Billy and the little group following them examined and exhaustively discussed each item. The sun had wa
rmed up considerably by then. Billy took off his cap and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a forearm. “We’ve jawed ’nough,” he said to Mitch. “Let’s head on down t’ the brewhouse an’ finish this business up. The other folks can look stuff over now. They don’t know the worth a truck like I do so your boys’ll just fleece ’m. They’ll spend me outta house an’ home.”
Billy ended up taking the rafts, some tools, and handfuls of trinkets and children’s toys that John knew he would see in Billy’s kids’ hands that evening. Billy admired Stony’s trucks and said that he had no use for them but knew they’d bring a good price at Coleridge Gardens. Hanna and some of the other adults of the community had appeared at the edge of the raft during the horsetrading, as much to listen to the men’s expostulations as to wait for them to finish their dealing. As Mitch and Billy walked off toward the brewhouse, they invaded the raft to look the truck over and start trading with the older men. The younger gang members and John, sensing the interesting part of the exchange had ended, left to find other diversions.
Chapter Twelve
The trading with the rest of the Kanes lasted about an hour. It took Matt and the others a while longer to repack the truck on the rafts and then he wandered off toward the shore. It was a golden early-autumn afternoon that he hated to waste in the brewhouse. Seeing John sitting on the edge of the most shoreward raft idly skipping stones across the water, Matt remembered his resolve to spend more time with the boy.
When he approached John, he said, “Want to look the farm over for a bit?”
John said he did.
They crossed to the shore and walked along the edge of the fields where people were working. We should help them out in the fields for a few days before we go to market, thought Matt, as payback for the hospitality.
“What do you think of the Kanes so far?” asked Matt. John thought about it for a minute. “I like Ms. Kane real well, and Buck and Willard. And Billy too, of course. It’s just that ... well ... I don’t know.” He stopped suddenly and looked up at Matt. “There’s just too many of ’m, Matt. They all talk at once. And the little ones are either shrieking or squalling. It’s hard to get used to.”
“I know it is,” Matt soothed, “but it’s just because you’ve never been around so many people. You’ll get used to it in time.”
“I’m not sure.” John looked down and kicked at a clod of dirt.
“It’s good for you to be around others your own age. And go to a real school with other children. Ms. Kane and Verbena run a school here.”
“But there aren’t any others my age. Have you noticed? They’re either older like Buck and Willard, or little screaming kids.”
Matt suddenly realized that that was true. And the reason became clear at once. John had been born in 2072, the year of the so-called Last Days. With such of an immense majority of the population dying, not many of the babies born during that year would have survived. Most of those born a few years previous to ‘72 would have perished as well. And he knew the rate of newborn survivals was low for a few years after that until the few surviving adults adapted to their suddenly alien new world.
“I really wish I could go with you, Matt, on to this Coleridge place, and on to Colorado. Billy himself said I was a born scrounger.”
Matt stopped them, took John by the shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. “Listen to me. I won’t see you become a scrounger. It’s not the life you think it is. It’s brutal and lonely. You have to do things you don’t approve of just to survive, bad things, things that haunt you the rest of your life. You become the kind of person you hate, and there’s no changing back.” (He was thinking of the men who were dead because of him.)
“And it’s dangerous, son. Those men of Chadwick’s. They’re bent on killing us; they’ve already killed three of us. They won’t stop until they either accomplish it or we’re so far away they can’t find us. And when we get to Colorado, it’ll be more of the same. We’ll do more bad things. There’ll be another Chadwick.
“I don’t want that for you. I want you to stay here and grow up among these good solid people where you’ll always have a safe place to live and plenty to eat. I want you to
marry some wonderful young woman and have a lot of healthy, happy babies. That’s what Maude wanted for you, and I’m sure your mother did too. And that was my promise
to Maude. I don’t want to break it.” He released John’s shoulders, straightened up and smiled, rather pleased with his lecture.
John grinned rather sardonically. “I’m already tired of listening to babies, whether they’re making happy squeals or pissed-off squalls, so I sure don’t want any of my own, and I’m not of a mind to get married for a long, long time. I know you’re gonna dump me here, no matter what I say, but I tell you what, Matt, I’m sure gonna miss you and all the other guys.”
Matt smiled and shook his head in defeat – his lecture had done nothing to change John’s mind – then put his arm around the boy’s shoulders as they continued their walk through the fields and meadows.
* * * *
Before supper Mitch called a confab in the guesthouse to divide up the money Billy had paid for the rafts and truck and to discuss their next step. Billy always complained about having little cash in the form of Nelson dollars, but Matt doubted that was the case; he never lacked for it when the need arose. He took in some cash, along with bartered goods, for the livestock he sold, primarily mules though also a few head of cattle and horses, for the grain and truck he sold at the market, and for the whiskey (he had the only still for many miles around). And, since his farm was nearly self sufficient, he seldom needed to spend any cash.
Before the gang divided any money they earned (they called it “take”) among the men, they set aside a share to pay for supplies that served the gang’s common interest (“the scratch fund”). That included fodder and stables for the mules in the winter and food and other gear for the men during trucking season. Boss Johnson had bought the crossbows for hunting out of that general fund. This year it had to be larger than usual. In addition to food for the trip to Colorado they had to rent four-legged transport for it from the Kanes and replace the scratch lost in the ambush. Fortunately, Stony had replaced most of his cooking gear scrounging Newcastle and the river town. The others had replaced some of their clothing and other scratch there as well. After the scratch fund was set aside, the rest of the money went to the men. They were responsible for their own lodging, food, and whatever diversions they desired over the winter months.
Mitch suggested they use half of Billy’s money for the scratch fund and divide the other half. They all agreed. This provided only a small percentage of what they needed to replace their lost scratch, especially the mules, and to finance their trip to Colorado but it was a beginning. And money in the men’s pockets raised their spirits.
“I got one more suggestion,” Mitch said. “It was young John here who found that wall mirror. And it’s gonna bring a purty price up t’ Coleridge. I think he has a share acomin’.”
Everybody was surprised at this announcement, but they agreed immediately. Jack Kincaid, who was sitting by John, applauded and slapped him on the back. The other boys cheered too.
But if everyone else was surprised and pleased, John was utterly stunned. He sat there with his mouth open, unable to speak for a moment. He had never had any money of his own and didn’t know anyone who had until he met the gang. He had seen the worthless cash that people around him had saved from the times before but had no idea of its value or even how to spend it.
At last he stammered, “Why – why – uh, gosh, Mitch, I don’t know – uh...”
“You earned it as sure as the rest a us,” said Mitch. “You worked as hard as any man here gittin’ the truck this far, an’ I never heard a gripe outta y’, leastways nowhere near the bitchin’ I git outta Doc.”
“Th – thanks a lot,” John finally got out. “I really appreciate it.”
When Mitch passed out each man’
s share, he gave John five nellies. Though the boy had no idea what the money was worth, it was the greatest wealth he had ever possessed in his life.
“What do we talk ’bout next, boys?” asked Mitch after the money had been divided.
“I’ve been thinking we oughta help Billy with the harvest for a few days,” said Matt. Several of the men murmured in agreement, said they’d been thinking the same thing.
“I talked t’ him ’bout that,” said Mitch. “Told him that him an’ two a his boys left in the middle a the harvest t’ look for us so it’s no more ’n right for us t’ help him. He said that his folks had ’bout wrapped the harvest up but we could help with some clean up. It’ll be a few days afore he’s ready t’ leave, an’ he said if we go ’long with him he can introduce us around. Nine a us workin’ a few days oughta make a big dent in the clean-up.”
“Ten,” said John shyly.
Mitch allowed a rare grin. “Ten it is, young John.”
At supper, Matt was glad to see Kincaid invite John to sit with him. John’s discomfort with the noise and confusion of Kane’s Cove had not occurred to Matt until the boy mentioned it, though once revealed it made perfect sense given his isolated upbringing. The other younger gang members, though, relished being a part of the crowd. Leighton carried on an animated discussion with Buck, both laughing, with occasional gesticulations, especially by Leighton. Miller sat between and conversed with two youths built as solidly as he, and Matt was surprised to see the dark quiet Rossi involved in an intent conversation with a solemn girl of about his own age.
Matt took his time finishing eating, half listening to some implausible tale of Billy’s. The smaller children, older kids, and the young gang members finished their meals and left the room long before the adults. Billy finally suggested that the older gang members join him at the brewhouse. When Matt stepped outside, he saw that, despite the near darkness, some soccer-like game was under way on the shore. The community’s older boys and girls were playing against the young gang members. John was playing on the side of the gang.