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Uncle Charlie shook his craggy grayed head and grimaced.
"Man, but I'd love to toss these in the stove." He rumbled something under his breath. "Benny, your mom, she's in kind of a bad way right now. She needs you, kid." He glared at the exuberant Benny squirming on the bench in the cow barn next to him.
Sighing, Charlie closed his eyes. What was the use of making the kid feel bad? Yeah . . . it wasn't like he was doing anything different from his uncles. Guilt never worked. It only served to make people angry and sullen. And God knew, the kid could do a lot worse than serve his People through the Marines for a while. It would prepare the kid for the inevitable.
"Why does she need me?" Benny demanded. "Tell her to get a life."
Furious, Two Swords and Uncle Charlie both glared daggers at the boy. They snarled and raised their fists in order to knock some sense into Benny's thick skull. In the shadows a tiny, dark face scowled.
The tsi:ge:O hissed, but faintly because of the barn cats, and drew his knife, a piece of reworked bone. Old-One and all the elders of the Little People had called on the able-bodied to defend the boy. He was their only hope of survival in a blood-maddened world.
The fists dropped.
Uncle Charlie groaned and shifted his bad knee. On the best of days it was like a nagging toothache. Now the fall rains were coming hard on the heels of a drop in temperature, it was a fire of aches when he used it.
"Ok, Benny, but what about Toddy? He'll have to milk all by himself." He indicated his knee with a light tap of a long, blunt finger. "You know I can't do all that much anymore. Not since-" He gave a wry shrug. No use telling the kid a story he'd heard a hundred times. The knee had been permanently damaged in a brawl with a obscene corrections officer at the county lock-up, when Anna had been jailed for the politically incorrect killing of old man Grey. The creep was making indecent proposals to his baby sister, and Charlie was still too wrapped up in his struggles with post traumatic stress disorder from the war. He snapped and nearly killed the scrawny putz.
Benny stared in something akin to awed hero-worship at his ex-warrior uncle. He flushed and lowered his gaze. The resolve to escape Sandy Valley and his past crystallized in that instant. It was the only chance he had to become a man.
"I can handle the milking, Dad." Todd flashed a grin at Benny from his seat on the manger wall.
Charlie glared up at his son until the teen's dark face burned. Todd stared angrily at the straw covered floor beneath his dangling barn boots.
"We'll help too," Trixie and Dixie cried. In the barn a young Red Devonshire bull shivered in mortal terror at the sound and scent of the twins. The girls squeezed in on either side of Benny and stared up at him, adoring.
"When you get back from boot camp, you gonna marry up with us, ain't you, Unca Benny?"
"Yeah," the second whispered, and batted her eyes at him.
Benny swallowed his terror and shuddered hard. They leaned against him and sighed, hands clasp over their racing hearts.
Looking up into his uncle's frown, Benny flushed and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Uh . . . they're only kidding, Uncle Charlie." He glared in a dark sullen anger at the girls. Rubbing his face, Benny silently cursed the growing heat of his embarrassment. "The twins planned on marrying Carl, and . . . ." Benny closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He shook his head hard, trying to wipe out the memory of what he had seen. Carl, crushed, his flesh burned to the bone, but still alive . . . dying, and the tormenters dragging his screaming spirit into hell. It haunted him, drove him wild with despair at times.
"I know, Benny," Charlie said. He gave Benny a look that told his nephew he understood more than just the girls' puppy love. He shook his head at the twins and grinned sadly.
"Benny?"
Benny looked at his uncle. Charlie handed him back the papers. "I only hope you figure things out, son. If you come back half the man both your dads were, you'll be hell on wheels."
"I, state your name," the officer said in a bored voice, "Swear to uphold the constitution of the United States of America, and the UN Charter, to . . . ."
Benny couldn't suppress a proud grin. He had done it, he was free. Now those jerks that messed him over would have to admit he was a man, just like Carl and Ben had been. Taking a deep breath, he calmly announced, "I do solemnly swear."
"Welcome to the Marines, Grey. I know you'll do well." The Captain smiled and shook Benny's hand. "Carl would be proud of you, kid." He stood back and Benny chuckled.
Benny hesitated at the steps of the office building. He glanced over his shoulder and bared his teeth in fury. A long, black limousine eased around the square. The license plates were identical to the ones on the stretch job Cindy used to come to the funeral.
Slowing, the car rolled passed the Federal building. The driver leered out at Benny and speeded up. Benny spun and gaped at Cindy VanTur.
"Benny?" She nodded, as graceful as always, her hands warm and snug in a chinchilla muff. "Did you know I had a boy? I haven't named him as yet, though. You know how . . . uncertain the first two years are in a child's life." The woman smiled generously. "Would you like to see him? He's with the car." Her gaze scanned the square, dismissing the picturesque and well cared for park.
Again she smiled, enticing him, making him want her, need to do anything she asked. Her head cocked to one side in an unconscious imitation of her Benny when he was about to lose his mind in a fight to the finish.
"He really is quite beautiful, you know. Bald as an egg, but with a full set of teeth." She stepped down to him and lay a hand on Benny's arm. "He," she whispered, "very nearly killed me at birth. He is as ornery as his daddy." Her eyes danced in suppressed merriment.
"Come." She lay a hand on his arm. "Let's go see our son."
Tugging gently, Cindy pulled the numbed and unresisting Benny down to street level. The car slipped around the block, easing into the place before them. Her driver unfolded his lean frame from the driver's seat and trotted heavily around to the rear door.
Malicious as ever, James grinned at Benny and opened the door for them.
"And how is mommy's little soldier today?" Cindy whispered. She allowed the driver to help her in, and then nodded at Benny. "Do you want to see your son or not?"
Benny shook his head. He glanced wildly up and down the street. A cop was glaring his way. Not that he would help. Not help Benny, that is. If Cindy so much as squeaked, the fuzzy creep would be all over Benny like dog crap on new shoes. Benny was the 'criminal type.' Whatever that was. Only cops and judges and DAs knew for sure.
Cindy patted the seat and took a bundle of soft blue cloth from a heavyset and angry looking old woman. "See? Blue eyes, just like Daddy."
Against his better judgement, Benny leaned forward. In awe, he peered at the child, his arms trembling with the need to hold his son.
The eyes focused on Benny. A small triangular mouth opened in a yawn and the child offer his father a sleep grin.
She rocked slowly, unblinking at him. "Our child. What's the harm, Benny? Come, sit with me." She scooted over and patted the seat.
Warnings flashing in his mind, his body tense and alert, Benny climbed in. He squatted on the edge of the seat and stared at the sleepy bundle of his making. She smiled gently and lay the child across his trembling knees. Benny took his son. He glanced at Cindy, and was shaken to the core by the power and the joy of fatherhood.
"Yo . . . I . . . ." He flushed and raised the baby up until they were eye to eye. He could see his mother staring back at him. The kid looked like a baby picture Uncle Charlie had of Mom. A lump formed in his throat. Benny hugged the child.
He gave his son back to Cindy, muttering a soft, "I . . . got to go, Cindy."
Benny started to leave the car and she grabbed his arm.
"No," she cried. "Please?" Benny hesitated until she said, "Please come home to me, Benny. We make such beautiful children together."
Face hard, Benny's throat constricted to a whisper of sound. "Good-bye, Cindy." He tried to leave.
"Ride around the square with me. Please?" She nodded at the driver. He started to slam the door shut and Benny shook his head. "Better think twice, dude. Look." Benny snarled a grin and pointed at the trees and sky. The air was thick with silent, watching birds. Hawks swooped among doves. Ravens flapped heavily alongside wrens and chickadees. A thousand golden eyes followed their every move.
Benny took his son from the woman. He held him up and showed him the massing birds.
"See this, kid?" he said and laughed. "That's your Gramma Waya, keeping an eye on you.
"He:wa, ay:o:til," he whispered, Listen to the Wolf, my son, and he felt the enthralled possessiveness that he knew in the depths of his being his own father had experienced. "Every time you see a bird, remember that we're watching over you. All of us love you." The twins came to mind and with a wince he added, "You and all your brothers, and if you're unlucky enough to have them, your sisters, too. Gramma Waya said so and that lady ain't never wrong, little dude." He kissed the baby and handed his son back to the old woman.
Cindy glared at Benny. "Take good care o' my kids, Cindy," he told her, a mocking gravity to his voice. "One a these days we're coming for them." Nodding at the old woman, Benny said, "Ma'am." Eye bright and hard with something less than laughter, Benny smiled. "Have a good day, Cindy. I know I will."
Whistling and cheerful, Benny crawled out and sauntered away.
Cindy bared her teeth and shrank from a pair of kestrels that seemed to have decided to roost on the antenna over the trunk. In the midst of the birds was a massive golden eagle. It watched Cindy with hungry eyes.
Through the blackness a mist fell, obliterating all sound but the quiet ringing of cowbells on the slopes of the mountain.
"Nah, why should they care?" Benny squatted on the saddle of his motorcycle and gave Todd a lopsided grin. "I'm gonna be there in lots a time. I want to spend a week at Uncle Bob's, dude, down in Fayetteville. Your mom says they got some great hills down that way."
Todd wanted to smile, to agree with Benny that it was a good thing for him to leave now, to not wait until there was a load of men and boys to be bussed down . . . and couldn't. His face was strained. Nightly, Todd was racked by dreams . . . nightmares of Benny's dying, being slowly crushed.
With the feeling he would never see his cousin again, his closer than a brother dn:V:tli,
Todd stuck out a hand.
Taking it, Benny held it in a fierce grip. "You keep going down to Bob White's, ok? One of us should. The old dude was real broken up 'bout Carl-"
Benny swallowed, his tears diluted by the softly falling mists.
"Hey," Benny said with a false heartiness, "I'll be doin' great. A real he-man and a hero. Nothing can happen to me, remember? I'm indestructible, bro."
Todd snorted. "I'll keep going, Benny. Pappy Bob is a cool dude. We'll both miss you."
For the first time since he had decided to flee the Valley, Benny had misgivings. Nodding slowly, Benny released Todd's hand. No matter what, it was too late now. He had signed the papers, and so had his mother. If he chickened out, there was no going back. No escaping the demon shadowed Valley and his destiny on the 'Stone.
No, it was better this way. Benny scowled in deep anger. With him gone, maybe the Project would let Mom and Todd and everybody alone. If he were dead it would be even better, but the Owl's pack of fruitcakes would love that too much, so to spite those creeps he had to stay alive.
Standing to his full height of five feet and six inches, Benny threw a wolfish grin at Todd and kicked hard on the starter. The old bike rumbled to a growling purr. Blinking hard at the sting of unwanted moisture in his eyes, Benny shoved off with one boot, his head low to hide the sorrow in his eyes.
The old motorcycle rumbled and spat, jouncing over large rocks and rut in Uncle Charlie's lane. Benny heard a shout. He cut back on the fuel and waited. Man, but why was bro-Toddy making this harder than it had to be? He swallowed and raised a stiff face to a desolate night sky.
Pounding over the rough farm lane, Todd grinned. Breathless, he shove something at Benny. "Take it," he said, his voice a low growl.
Benny clutched at a small leather sack. His eyes widened. He thrust it back at Todd. "Dude, I can't. Grampa Waya gave that to you." Todd shook his head at the old tobacco pouch, and Benny stared at him. "But-"
"Stuff it, Benny." Todd glared at him. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Todd shook his head. "Now its yours. Ok?"
A reluctant, grateful smile stretched Benny face. He opened a pocket of his jacket and slid it in. It wasn't right . . . Grampa had meant for Toddy to carry on the old traditions of the
de:dan:weda, the Healer . . . but nor was he ever able to refuse his cousin anything the guy really wanted. Toddy was as mule-headed as his old man.
He swung off the bike and jerked Todd into a deep hug. Benny said with a hoarse anguish, "I love you, bro. Don't you ever forget it, please?"
Crushing his cousin to him, Todd swallowed the pain.
"I know, man. I love you, too, bro."
They parted, each feeling slightly embarrassed with this display of emotion. Shaking hands again, they repeated, voices raised strong and sure,
"D:V:n:tli, Brothers."
"O:tsi:Yu, Grey-wolf." Todd wiped the rain from his face and nodded sharply.
"Peace and love to you, too, Toddy."
Todd raised his hand in the Eagle-woman's sign, and then his cousin was gone.
He lifted his face to a black and angry sky and prayed for the Warriors of the Sun to guard and protect his cousin. Benny was the last hope the Valley had of living.
Maybe the last hope for a lot of valleys.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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