“You stopped going, Asher?” Becca asked.
I gave her the courtesy of an honest answer. “Those movies have nothing to do with who I am. It’s just a waste of time.” I took a swig of whiskey and handed the flask to Becca. Then I added, “course, if I was dating someone like Boze, I’d want to sit in the dark with him as much as possible, so I wouldn’t need to see his ugly face.”
I caught Becca off guard as she was taking a sip of whiskey. She laughed and nearly spit it out. But that stuff is too precious. She managed to save every drop. “Yeah,” she agreed, “not seeing his face was a bonus.”
“I have to say,” Pace said, “I was glad to hear you unloaded that guy. Good to see a worthy girl such as you keeping yourself available for a better opportunity.” Pace was a better opportunity, that’s for sure. No reason to worry about money for a girl that married him. Maybe that’s one reason why he had no problem with girls liking him. But was that what Becca was flirting with Pace for? That didn’t sound like her. Of everyone I know, she’s the one who seems best able to handle being so dirt poor. “You’d be set if you married someone like me,” Pace continued. Now I was pissed. I sat up and noticed my hands were clenching into fists without me even thinking about it.
“Oh no,” Becca said, laughing in his face. “You’re not the marrying type!”
Pace joined her in her laugh. “You’re right about that.”
My fists unclenched.
More whiskey.
“Boze,” Becca mused. “The only reason I dated him was my parents thought it would be a good match that would make fine babies. But I always knew he was an idiot.” We all laughed in agreement. I could see Becca’s eyes darting around – she was getting uncomfortable. She didn’t want to talk about Boze anymore. Fine by me.
“Relationships are a funny thing,” Pace announced. “Our ancestors used to have the luxury of indulging in love, if they chose to. But there wasn’t as much pressure then as there is now. How many times do we have to hear about ‘repopulation of the species?’ Is that really our obligation? And just because an arrangement appears to be a strong match, like you Rebecca with Boze, doesn’t mean it’s love. We’re living life too much for society’s sake. We should live more for ourselves.”
“Amen,” Becca replied. “But I’m not sure how realistic that is.”
“It has to be!” Pace continued. “I feel so fenced in. Somehow I’ve got to find a way to get out of our little town. Maybe I’ll be one of our traders, so at least I can see the other settlements.”
“I thought you were going to stay in the bank forever,” Becca said.
“That would be so sad,” he replied. “My Dad’s been good to me, no doubt, and that stupid bank has kept me from going hungry. But I’m ready for a little hunger right now.”
We passed around the flask and all took another sip of whiskey and let his words resonate.
“I’m always a little hungry,” Becca finally responded.
“Working at the general store’s not going to fix that,” Pace said.
“No. It’s like dying just a little bit every day,” she remarked. I could see by the slight squint in her eyes that she meant it. “How come I never see you in the store?”
“I go in there from time to time to buy kindling,” Pace replied.
“Not you,” Becca groaned. “I know your family hires Martha to do most of the errands. I mean you Asher. Mine’s the only store in town. If you don’t buy food there, I don’t know how you’re eating.”
“I get by,” I lie. Truth be told, I tried to go to the general store only on off-hours when she wouldn’t be working there. Or if I saw her in the window I’d keep walking, even if it meant I’d go hungry that night. I don’t need to be a burden on her.
More whiskey.
Then we found ourselves staring up into the sky. It was so clear. Nothing but stars.
“What do you dream about, Asher?” Becca asked me. She was looking at me all quizzical. Like she did when we used to sit around all day and just talk. Again, just to be clear, that was when we were prepubescent. That’s the only time I think when boys and girls could just sit around like that. Now, there’s too much pressure to do something – anything else.
Anyway, I didn’t have much of an answer, so Pace chimed in. I think he sensed my hesitation. Came to my rescue too. “Me first. I can tell you. I dream about going up there. Starbound.” He pointed to the stars. “I want to go where our ancestors went. I want to see what’s beyond our solar system. I want to pass by that hypernova and give it the middle finger. Just imagine what’s out there. It must have been amazing for our ancestors to forsake all this. Otherwise they would have come back.” I looked down at the weeds. Wasn’t sure what “all this” Pace was referring to. “What about you, Rebecca? What do you dream about?”
Becca looked straight down to the ground and, as always, she spoke from her heart. “I dream of a life without fear of poverty. Because that’s what makes life so unbearable. Not the poverty. The fear.”
I tried to grasp the concept she was saying. I admit, I had a hard time with it. But Pace seemed to understand.
“The fear’s what keeps us trapped in the settlement,” he said. “If we can get past the fear, there’s a whole world out there, and nobody’s taken it yet. It can be all ours.”
Pace and Becca were staring into each other’s eyes now. They were making a connection. Eff that.
“You know what I dream about?” I blurted out. Both of them averted their gaze from each other over to me. I waited a second, for dramatic effect. “Nothing. I don’t dream.”
Becca moaned. “Asher, that’s such a cop out.”
“It’s not. I’m a realist. Isn’t that how you taught me to be, anyway? I accept my situation for what it is. I’m just trying to get through it.”
If you wanna know the truth, though, I do dream. It’s just nothing I can openly admit. Certainly not to Becca.
That was certainly a conversation killer, anyway. Our thoughts all trailed off. I just fixated on the river. I thought about all those fish in there. Enough to feed our settlement for many lifetimes over. And I thought about my mother, and what she saw in that water anyway.
Next thing I knew, though, Becca shouted out. I sprang up, fearing wolves. It was a predator – but the kind that’s easy to handle. It was just Pace. He had tried to give Becca a kiss, apparently. My fists clenched again. Yup.
“If you weren’t such a playboy, Pace…” Becca said, pushing him away.
My fists unclenched. Becca could take care of herself.
“Kissing’s just fun,” Pace said in his defense. “That and the things that come after it. Gives us something to do while we’re bored, right?”
“Maybe you should try kissing your horse,” I offered. They both liked that one.
“I do,” Pace admitted. “Problem is he kisses back.” Then we passed around the flask one more time, to smooth over whatever had just happened.
Then, I don’t know if it was the whiskey or a healthy sense of competition, I dunno, but I had this overwhelming urge to kiss Becca. Yeah, I have that urge all the time, but that thing in my brain that stops me from doing stupid things wasn’t listening. I just leaned over and put my large hands on her winsome face and leaned in.
“Asher, what are you doing?” Becca pushed me away harder than I thought she could. I looked away sheepishly. “We can’t.”
Didn’t I know it. “Sorry, I…”
“I don’t think you need to apologize,” Pace said, intervening in our intimate moment. I was kind of relieved actually. “Hey, we both gave it a shot. Can you blame us? You’re the best looking girl we know.”
Becca seemed to blush at that. I’m not sure she believed it. But it was true.
“We should head back,” Becca said, changing the subject. “It’s beyond late.”
We saddled up and made our way back out of the forest. I still never saw any sign of those wolves. Once we got back to the skyscrapers, we ro
de a little faster than before, with the added confidence you get when you’re just retracing your steps. But then when we got back to that effing bridge, we took our time again getting across. This time, Pace went first. I was bracing for a sudden swim but it never happened.
Soon, we neared the outskirts of Great Falls, and it all felt very familiar. And a little disappointing. Maybe that’s why Becca slowed her horse until I caught up with her. I could see some kinda look on her face, not sure how to describe it. Maybe regretful, I dunno.
“I’m sorry about before, Asher,” she said.
“It’s all right. It was just the whiskey, actually. Won’t happen again.”
I told you I’m comfortable with lies.
“There’s just too much history. Otherwise…” Her voice trailed off. I wanted to know what “otherwise” meant, but I found myself thinking about what my relationship with Becca used to be. After my mother died, Becca stepped in as a bit of a mother figure to me. She helped with cleaning and cooking. I lived in that old empty house by myself – I didn’t know how to do that stuff without her. As she said all the time, I’d starve without her. That was pretty much true. I was an outcast by then, but not to her. She taught me about everything. Even girls, when puberty hit. But by then of course, I’d developed quite a crush on her. But why would she be interested in me? I had no future. She’d have a better life with better suitors. Eventually I purposefully ignored her, and we drifted apart. My memory did flash to the time when I was out with a girl named Lithe. Told you I wasn’t a virgin. Truth be told, Lithe was never my type. A little too skinny. Just a placeholder really. It was nice that she liked me and all. Or to be more truthful, she was so desperate she thought I was her only shot at marriage and all that. Poor girl. Anyway, Lithe was holding my arm or whatever, and we happened to walk right past Becca. We glanced at each other but then we both looked away. It was awkward, especially then.
“You know I’ve always believed in you,” she said. True. She was the only one who ever thought I wasn’t innately evil. That I wouldn’t follow in my father’s footsteps, break into the armory and go around shooting anyone in sight. He killed fifteen people that day. No one understood why. My mother certainly never understood. But I think I do. Which is why Becca was always wrong to believe in me. When my boss on the ranch hands me that shotgun, with just enough shells to ward off the wolf pack, I am tempted. I wonder what it would feel like. It certainly feels good killing wolves. And when it’s time to slaughter pigs or cattle, or even the bison, I know how to do it and I get good satisfaction from it. But those are just animals, or so I tell myself. We eat most of them. That’s the way nature works. But I dunno. If I knew where that armory was, there’s no telling what I would be tempted to do.
“Want me to tell you a story?” Becca asked. She knows her stories. She’s very well read and all, and she makes good use of the library filled with all sorts of relics from our past. She used to read stories to me all the time. It was actually better than going to the movies, cause it was just us. Hearing one of her stories would have been a good way to pass the time, no doubt. But instead, we kept riding in silence.
We rode near Becca’s house and dismounted, far enough away that we wouldn’t wake her parents. In a minute she’d sneak back in that window unnoticed and crawl into bed for a brief sleep before sunrise. And she’d be out of my life once again. It was time for me to say something. But what was I supposed to say?
“Hey!” we heard a male voice shout out. I thought it was her father. I was ready to run. Her father could catch Becca with Pace, that would be okay – actually, he’d love it. But not me. Never with me. The voice, though, wasn’t Becca’s father’s. It was Boze.
Boze stepped out from underneath a tree. He was tall – had that going for him. And big in a kind of lumbering way. Not a face that women liked, like Pace, but not as ugly as me either. Kind of a compromise. But whatever poor girl got saddled with him would have to put up with his foolish thinking and loud mouth.
“I’ve got a good mind to arrest you both,” Boze said loudly, with his tin badge gleaming in the moonlight.
“Shh!” Pace whispered. “Do you want to wake up her parents?”
Boze was properly scolded and kept his voice lowered after that. “Rebecca, where’ve you been with these boys?”
“None of your business anymore,” Becca replied rightfully. She tried to breeze past him but he grabbed her arm.
“Everything in this town is my business,” he growled.
“Hands off, Boze!” she shouted, maybe not caring about waking her parents up anymore.
Pace rolled up his sleeves, gearing up for a fight. Me, my fists were already clenched of course.
“Ladies aren’t property, Boze,” Pace said. “And this one’s got better ideas on how to spend her leisure time – and with whom.”
“And that’s supposed to be you?” Boze scoffed.
“Suppose so. We just got back from the Old City. You think she’d go there with just anyone?”
Boze stared at us with his jaw open, looking stupid. Boze wouldn’t have the guts to go anywhere near the Old City. “That’s against the law you know,” was all he could muster to say.
“I’d like to see you try to arrest me,” Pace dared.
Boze didn’t know how to respond, so he just turned his attention back to Becca. “Rebecca, you can’t be hanging out with these guys. After you change your mind about marrying me, I don’t want you having done things I can’t live with. The rich one, I can sort of understand, but this one…”
Boze pointed a lone finger at me. That was all I needed. My fist connected with his jaw. I was ready to follow with a punch to his gut, but he was already down. And out cold. What a clod.
We stared down at Boze for a moment. I’d punched him before of course, and most of his Nuggets too. When we were all younger they loved harassing me. They called me a demon child or devil spawn, or worse. They’d beat me up frequently. But as I grew older, though, I became increasingly difficult to beat up. Eventually they learned that and left me alone. And I suspected Boze would again after this. He could arrest me, sure, when he came to, but then everyone would know I decked him – while he was stalking his ex-girlfriend. He might want that little detail overlooked.
“You all right?” Pace asked Becca. She nodded with thanks and turned to go. Then she stopped. I wanted to ask her why she stopped. Then she turned, and just had this amazing curled up smile on her lips. She leaned in and kissed Pace on the cheek. It was all he needed to put a big smile on his face. Then Becca leaned in and kissed me on the cheek too. It was a tentative kiss. I could barely feel the heat from her lips. But it was enough for me too.
“G’night,” she said. And then she sashayed off to her parent’s house and snuck back in her bedroom window.
“That was worth it,” Pace remarked.
“Mm-hmm,” I muttered. As we mounted our horses, I realized something about Pace. He was brave enough, or foolish enough, to follow me into the Old City. He was ready to throw down with Boze. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a pussy as I thought.
“You got pretty good taste in women,” I said. “But Becca’s different. You got it?”
“I do,” he replied with a friendly smile. “I can’t promise to keep my hands off of her, but I will promise to treat her right.”
“I’ll be watchin’.”
We nodded to each other with grudging respect, then rode off our separate ways. I returned to my house – my father’s empty shack. I allowed myself to fall down onto my cot, which groaned under my weight. I had an hour or so to sleep, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to. My mind was too alive. So I just laid there. Wondering why. Why didn’t I just let her leave the saloon with Pace. Why did I torture myself this way?
2.
I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Even though it was my idea to become an outlaw, I like an honest day’s work. I really do. I’m not one of these guys, like Pace, who can’t stand to get his nails dir
ty. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ve seen my nails clean. I would’a been all right staying out on the ranch, herding cattle. It’s not that bad really. Well, mucking out the stalls isn’t my favorite. And I don’t get too involved in the birthing. That’s not my thing. But I pretty much like the rest of it. I used to work the cows, but now that I’m bigger I’m almost always working the bison. They’re pretty content creatures. So long as they’ve got plenty of water and pasture, they’re not likely to worry a fence. Course that doesn’t mean they won’t jump one. If they’ve got a mind to it, a bison can jump six feet from a cold start. I didn’t believe it myself ‘til I’d seen it. And when that happens on occasion, I’ve gotta ride out and chase down the runaways. Sounds easy, sounds fun, but it’s actually pretty deadly work. I saw one guy get gored pretty bad. It was his fault though – too slow to get out of the way. They might not look it, but bison are fast. If you aren’t smart enough to stay out of their way, you can get trampled. No doctor can patch that up.
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