by Alan Black
“Not a problem, sweetie,” Karen interrupted. “These bad boys have power lifts. They’re easier to tow around than a five-year-old is. Now, I’ll tell you what. I can make you a good deal on a three-bedroom place. But right now I find myself overstocked on four-bedroom places. You buy one of the four-bedroom places for the price of a three-bedroom and I’ll give you two houses for the price of one. That’s a good deal.”
Veronica shook her head. “What am I going to do with two houses? I only have one family working for me. Besides, one of these is going to take a massive chunk out of my bank balance. If Steve and Pushta aren’t going to stay long, they can stay in my place.”
“I’ll tell you what, Veronica, don’t you worry about the money. I can give you good terms. Reynolds says your place is right for it. You ask Steve and Pushta what they think. I’ll be here, don’t you worry.”
Veronica pointed to a row of plants, “Those for sale? They’re pretty.”
Karen said, “Those are white and pink oleanders. Where or even why Tucker picked up some of those is beyond me. The word is they grow like crazy in this hot, dry climate, but no one around here is planting anything that you can’t eat.”
Veronica said, “I need something to grow alongside my ramada to block the setting sun. Those might be perfect. How much do you want for them?”
Karen laughed, “Sweetie, you come back and buy a house from me and you can haul those away for free.”
Veronica thought about getting a house. Even repurposed from the Guirards, they were expensive, but she did miss her privacy. She liked, no, she loved, having the Johannsens around, but having a four and a five-year-old underfoot all the time could be draining, especially after a day in the fields and a few hours of paperwork every night.
She discontinued her window-shopping trip and rounded back to where they had parked the truck. She found Steve and Pushta under a shade tree. They were talking and laughing with a small group of men and women. A herd of small children ran crazy in the grass.
Steve stood up. “Here she is folks, Veronica Smith.” He introduced everyone, the names flashing by quickly. She was used to new students every semester and was good matching faces with names. She often made a mental game of applying nationalities to the names to help her remember: Maslow and Arianna with their daughter Malina—Polish; Augustus and his wife, Magnolia—California; Polat and Kat with two children—Turkish. She was not sure about California, but Auggie had the look of an ex-surfer. His wife Mags was of Chinese descent, but California had more Chinese than anywhere outside of China, itself.
Steve said, “I told them you’d hire them.”
Caught by surprise, Veronica stopped herself from shouting and managed to keep her voice calm. “You what? Steve, I can hardly afford to pay you—I actually haven’t paid you yet.”
Polat spoke in a slight Turkish accent mixed with a Kansas twang. “Please, Mrs. Smith, don’t be mad at Steve. We pushed him into it. We promise to work hard, because we have families to feed. We have tents to live in, but there are no jobs here to earn food.”
Maslow said, “We’re farmers, mostly. We’re used to no money until the harvests come in.”
Steve said, “They’re right, boss. I can wait for my pay, but I can’t wait to feed my kids or watch another man’s kids go hungry. Besides, we have more work coming up than you imagine. Harvest is the busy time.”
“Of course, plowing and preparing the fields is a busier time,” Polat said.
Maslow shook his head, “No. The busiest time is planting.”
“Anyway, boss, you rotated your fields so we’re going to be doing all of these things at the same time, not to mention taking care of the livestock and building your irrigation project.”
Veronica said, “Okay. I get it.” She thought for a moment. “Did you find any conduit for the wheat field’s overhead irrigation system?”
Steve shook his head. “There’s none this side of Landing City. We’ll just have to increase the flow through the ditches.”
She said, “Does everyone have transportation to get to my place or can everyone fit in the truck?” Everyone shook their heads. “Okay, truck it is.” She did some mental calculations. Money was going to be tight, but these folks looked like their extra cash had been nonexistent for a while.
She said, “Gentlemen, hold out your data-patches.” She transferred a few hundred credits to each man, four times that to Steve as he had already worked with her for a month. “That’s not much, but it’s all we have to spare right now. Before we leave town today, purchase what you need to get by on for a while. I don’t know when we’ll get back to Twisted City for more shopping.”
She thought for a moment. “Pushta, would you and the ladies come with me? The men can watch the children for a while. We need to go house shopping. It’ll drain my bank account, but I think we need to buy four new houses.”
She hoped she would make enough money when the onion crop came in. Currently, she was going broke fast.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Veronica forced a smile to her lips, after all, she had invited Maine to come to her house. She needed him to come to her house. None-the-less, it was irritating to see the man standing at her front door. She did not want to invite him into her home.
She said, “Maine, it’s so good to see you. I’m so glad that you decided to take me up on my invitation to come for a visit.”
Maine said, “I wanted to show you my new air ski. Ain’t it a beauty?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the machine. It certainly was not a new air ski. There was damage to the fenders and skirts and she could see where a lubricant leak stained the engine block and dripped onto the footrests, but it had a new paint job and a deep gloss polish.
She would not trust it higher than a few inches off the ground. She certainly would not use it for the six-foot-high jumps, rolls, and flips that x-gamers did on Earth. Fortunately, Maine’s new air ski had only one seat so there would be little chance of him asking her to go for a ride.
She said, “It’s absolutely the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. I thought you and your brother were into riding horseback?” She grabbed him by the arm and steered him around the side of the house to the ramada. She flipped the switch driving the ceiling fans and misters around the edge of the open-sided picnic area.
It had not taken Cal long to dig the deep trench for laying conduit to bring water from the house to the ramada. The ramada’s solar panels provided power to turn the fans and the pump that pushed high-pressure water through the mister tubes, dropping a curtain of mist around all four sides. It was thirty degrees cooler in the shade of the ramada with the fans and misters running.
She invited him to sit in a large loveseat rocker and slid in next to him. She had made the furniture herself, cutting the wood and holding pieces in place while Cal drove wooden pegs into deep holes. The designs were in her university library database under the Ozark Furniture topic.
Maine said, “Well, I like riding horses better, but we didn’t bring any with us from Earth. Pa brought our flitter and Dillon’s old air ski. Dillon always says why ride when you can fly. It’s fun, but things do go by fast.”
Veronica said, “I should say so. It looks like a super fast air ski. You be careful with it, I wouldn’t want you hurt. Where did you get it?”
Maine looked lovingly at the machine. “This was Dillon’s old one. He used to let me ride it a lot back on Earth, but it broke a while back and we couldn’t get the parts to fix it here. So, when he and Pa got new rides, we bought the parts to get this one fixed.”
She asked, “How nice for Dillon to get a new one. How did that happen?”
“Mr. Tatum gave Pa an advance of our next crop,” he replied. “We didn’t get enough to get three new ones, but Dillon gave me his old one, so it’s okay.”
“What can I get you to drink, Maine?” She leaned her shoulder against the man and squeezed his leg. “I can do coffee, tea, fruit drinks and I think we even have a co
uple of beers around the place.”
“Beer would be good,” he said.
“Beer it is. You sit here in the shade and relax. Let me bring it to you.”
It did not take long to grab a bucket, put in a half a dozen beers, and fill the bucket with ice. Veronica saw Pushta’s disapproving frown, but she did not want to take the time to explain everything now. She settled for the minimum explanation. “Pushta, he’s a guest. Besides, he isn’t a bad guy when his brother isn’t around.”
Pushta started to say something, but Veronica waved her silent.
Veronica said, “I don’t want to hear it right now.” She left the woman in her kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Though Pushta wanted to contradict Veronica, she could not. The woman was her boss. It was not right to oppose the boss or even question her motives. Her family had come from Delhi so long ago they no longer felt second-class, but giving deference to the boss was only right. Besides, this woman had saved her family. They were almost at the end of their rope when Mr. Reynolds brought them to Veronica Smith. They were one step away from going to Landing City and getting work in a warehouse or something. Pushta sighed. She would work in a brothel before she let her children starve.
She had begun to feel as if this farm was her home. This ranch house had become her responsibility. She admitted she loved the house Veronica bought for her. “Yes.” She said aloud once the boss was gone. “Veronica bought us a house, a house of our own to keep and raise children, not just a room to stay in.” Still, the ranch house had a permanent place in her heart. It was the physical manifestation of her family’s salvation.
She had almost gotten past the feeling of loss and privation over the past month. Seeing the three new families brought all the emotions flooding back. The look in Kat’s eyes watching her hungry children play mirrored the look she had seen in her own eyes.
Veronica saved those families as well. She had come to love this woman. How could she question what the boss did?
She hated the Halberds. “No, hate is wrong…but I can’t help myself. They’re disgusting even if their actions had not hurt Ransom.” Veronica said she would get justice from the Halberds. She trusted Veronica. She did not understand how giving Maine Halberd a cold beer came close to justice for hurting her baby boy.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Veronica slid next to Maine and popped the top off a beer for him.
He looked around. “You got a real nice place here. You got other people living here now?”
She nodded. “Sure, since I lost my field robot I had to have help. You know servants and such. If I can get a little money ahead, I plan to buy comm units so that I won’t have to get up to go get a beer. My husband and I can sit here in the shade and have our servants wait on us.”
Maine said, “Your husband? Is he coming on the next ship?”
Veronica said, “No. That man on Earth is no longer my husband. I want someone from here.”
Maine grinned and said, “Anyone in mind, yet?”
She leaned up against him and nudged his shoulder. “I got some ideas. Hey! Drink up, Maine. Those beers aren’t going to drink themselves.”
Maine drained the beer and grabbed a second. “I been a-wondering if I should get married myself again.”
Veronica said, “It isn’t good for a man to be alone. I’m not a child. I know that men have needs and they need wives to take care of those requirements.”
“Missy wasn’t much good in bed.” He drained his second beer and started on a third. “But Pa took care of that.” He glanced around. “I mean, she fixed that when she killed herself. Still, I know that women folk don’t much care for their menfolk to go visiting over to Miss Tiffany’s brothel, but Dillon’s wife takes care of Dillon and me.”
Veronica felt her skin crawl. This family was like something out of an old horror movie. She would not be surprised if they had a penchant for cutting up tourists with chainsaws. She determined if they ever opened a roadside barbecue place, she was not going to eat there.
She said, “I understand a man’s needs, Maine. I’d take care of my husband so he didn’t feel the need to go to a brothel. What I don’t understand is why Dillon makes his wife charge you. You are family and all. I mean, he even makes you go second with her, right?”
She was not sure Dillon’s wife actually charged Maine for her sexual favors; however, she could see that her comment hit the mark. She struck a deep nerve by bringing up the subject of always going second behind Dillon.
Maine looked away, “Not always.” He grabbed a fourth beer and popped it open.
She sensed it was time to twist that exposed nerve. “Let’s see, you have to take sloppy seconds with Dillon’s wife and she still charges you? Then she turns around and gives your money to Dillon, right? Of course, she does. That doesn’t sound right to me, not with family and all. Of course, if I had a husband, he would get to go first with me, too. That seems fair. And I guess any money I earn should go to my husband, but still, you are his only brother.”
Maine said, “Dillon treats me alright.”
“I didn’t say he didn’t. I mean, you get his hand-me-down air ski when he gets a new one. You get his wife second hand. Say, where did you get that shirt?”
Maine looked uncomfortable. He remained silent, sipping more beer.
She said, “More hand-me-downs from Dillon?”
“Well, you wouldn’t understand, coming from a wealthy family and all. We working folk have to share and share alike.”
“How often have you received something new and Dillon got your castoffs?”
Maine said, “Dillon is my older brother. He ain’t cheating me.”
She said, “Maine, honey, I never said he was cheating you. I’m saying that when someone cuts the cake, you shouldn’t always get the smallest piece. You’re smart and handsome. You deserve the first pick, sometimes.”
“Yeah, well—”
A sharp report echoing off the house interrupted whatever Maine was going to say. Veronica could not tell where the sound came from or what it was.
She stood up and looked around. “Did you hear that? What was it?”
“I didn’t hear nothing.” Maine avoided looking her in the eye. He focused on the beer in his hand instead.
There was another sharp report and a third. It was gunfire coming from over the ridge. A dozen shots rang out, then silence.
“Huh? Sounds like somebody’s doing…um…some target practice or something.” Maine said.
“What is it, Maine? What’s going on?”
Pushta ran around the side of the house, followed closely by Steve.
Pushta said, “Are you okay, Veronica? We heard gunshots.”
Veronica looked down at Maine. “Come on, Maine. I’m your friend. If you know something, now is the time to tell me.”
Maine shrugged, but did not say anything.
Veronica looked at Steve and Pushta. She said, “Are your children in the house?”
Pushta said, “No. They’re over at Polat and Kat’s playing with their youngsters.”
Steve said, “The gunfire came from that direction.” He pointed northwest to the ridge and then turned and looked north. “But the new housing units are that way. Still…”
Veronica said, “We don’t have vidphones set up at the new houses yet. Steve, you take the truck and get over there. I want everyone accounted for. Then get back here and we’ll head over that west ridge and check this out. I don’t want guns going off close to my property, we have children here.”
Maine stood and grabbed the last two bottles of beer. He pointed south in the direction of town. It was the opposite direction of the gunfire. “Here comes Pa and Dillon. I got to go.”
Veronica watched as he ran to his air ski and jumped on as. It sputtered a bit then popped up off the ground about six inches. The skirts leaked and it listed to the left. Maine leaned a bit to the right to compensate. He spun the joystick controls and took off head
ing toward his father and brother. When he reached them, he tossed them each a beer. The laughing men turned southwest on a direct course for the Halberd home. Maine’s air ski sputtered a bit, but the other two machines moved as silent as the wind.
Veronica said, “Steve, get a move on.”
Pushta said, “Steve, I’m going with you. I need to check on our children. Lunch can wait.”
Veronica called after them, “Lunch be damned. Pushta, you stay with your children. Keep everyone together until we know what’s going on. Steve, I’ll meet you up there.” She pointed west.
Rather than rush off, she calmly picked up the empty bucket of ice and looked around. The dry season was in full swing. Most of the grass was dry and starting to turn brown. She should consider putting in a sprinkler system around the house. Coming from Phoenix, she was well aware that even native desert plants could burn during the hot, dry summers.
She spread the ice around the roots of the oleander she had planted along the west side of the ramada. Once they grew to roof height, they would block the heat of the setting sun and make the ramada a pleasant place to sit in the evenings. It would be a shame to waste the water from melting ice. She picked up Maine’s four empties and put them in the bucket. She would wash them out for reuse later.
She left the bucket on a table and walked west. The ridge sloped up and away from the house, not a difficult slope to navigate. It made more sense to wait for Steve to return with the truck, but she did not want to wait. Steve could catch up.
The day was hot and she had left her hat in the house. She was not going to waste time going back for it.
Remembering the gunshot echoes, Veronica realized whatever happened might not be close to the house. She was within half a mile of her northernmost property line. There, the land started rising and breaking up before becoming the foothills to the mountains. She had a direction fixed in her brain, all she had to do was maintain a straight course toward the tall central peak of the western range and keep walking until she found something. The house was close to the center of her northwest section. She could reach the north and western edges of her property in half a mile.