|
Mike waited outside of Benny’s shack for the kid to emerge.
Creel was already in Antone’s ogling the barmaids and getting drunk on hot
toddies.
Lying on the roof, Benny watched him. Mike stood to one side of
the door.
Benny grinned. He thought about dropping some cow manure over
Mike’s fancy Zip suit. There was a loud snort, and Benny shrugged off the need
to mock. Slipping away, he moved along the roof ridges hoping no one would shoot
through the scabby roof. He went to the other side of the block, then slid down
and trotted to Antone’s.
Jason opened the door. The man whistled, and a couple of barmaids
crowded Creel. He grinned and opened his arms for them to kiss and stroke him.
Benny dodged through the crowd to the bar. He ducked away behind it, and the
laughing barmaids abandoned Creel.
An hour later Mike came in scowling at a dejected and already
drunken Creel.
A girl dashed to him with a whiskey and soda. She flashed a smile
when he tipped her. As she reached for the credits, Mike lay a hand over her
hand.
“Honey, I got a thousand like it if you can get Benny Grey out
here.”
The white plastic chips dropped to the table.
“The price is twenty creds, sir,” she said.
Mike let her go. She took two ten credit pieces and moved away.
When she returned with another toddy for the snoring Creel, she
said, “Ain’t no man name o’ Grey here, sir.”
Mike opened his mouth. She frowned, and he waited.
“Man in the back, though, he saying he don’t need to talk with
you.” Her eyes hinted at a cool humor.
“Tell him Uncle Ron and Auntie Millie want him to.”
Lips pursed, she took payment for the toddy and left Mike holding
it. Mike scowled. He drank it, and held his breath till the worse of the heat was
gone. The barmaid appeared with a cold beer.
“I was told Ron and Millie be nice folks,” she said, eyes
hooded as she picked at the credits. “The fat man, he a strong man. And that
Millie, she mean enough to be a teacher, she mean enough to take out any
fool.”
“Not when the president has decided to do away with
mixed-bloods.”
The girl’s eyes opened. With a glance at the smiling man in the
picture, she took a deep breath and fled.
Chong slid into the booth. “Did you speak with our young
friend?”
Mike shook his head, "I . . . called Mom. She said the war between Russia and the empire
is escalating.”
Chong shrugged. He raised a hand, and a barmaid came to him. She
glanced at Mike. Her head gave a small shake.
When the girl ran off with Chong’s order, Mike said, “She
won’t go. Neither she nor Dad will.” His fists clenched.
A faint smile on his face, Chong sighed. “You’re between a
rock and a hard place, old boy. No true son would let his parents come to harm,
but, neither can he prevent it if they refuse help.”
“I’ll have them drugged–“
“And shame them?” One eye cocked up, Chong shrugged. “I’d
love to have elders in my home again. My own parents could have lived. They gave
up their rights to medicine so others, and I,
could survive.” He gave Mike a gentle smile. “Perhaps if you present it as
doing me a favor? I have a deep respect for them both.”
Mike shook his head. “I spilled the beans. When they say no,
they stick with it.”
Eyes stark and throat aching, Aloè repeated herself.
“Armageddon.” She moistened her lips. “What happens if this child is never
born?”
“Then we can forget surviving the war.”
Swallowing her tea, Aloè shook her head. “Superstition–“
Anna tapped the cup. The delicate china gave a sweet ring.
“Power. The Party is trying to tap it, but sons do not inherit
it from their fathers. Not at this level. My son is stronger than I am, and his
bride is far more so. So far, all he’s sired is sons. This child,” Anna
said, leaning towards a shrinking Aloè, “the kid will be one of a small
elect. She’ll represent the Americas.”
“When . . .?”
“Too soon.”
Aloè stiffened. “And the Party? What of it?”
“All prophecy indicates is that there will not be a Europe left.
Anyone allied to the president will be brought to ruin. There won’t be much of
an America, either. Were I you, I’d get everyone away from the coastal
areas.”
Aloè trill a small, nervous laugh. “My dear, about all we’ve
left is ruins.”
“Not like you’re going to see.”
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
|
