see the Captain ever again.
There are three guys shooting hoops. The court is the road. The hoop is nailed to a tree that leans over the packed dirt and gravel. They don’t even stop the game until Bo opens the door of the truck and gets out.
“Hey, Joe!” The one holding the ball flings it at Bo. Bo claps it out of the air. I did not know my brother could do that.
“Hey, Dolph,” says Bo.
“Unexpected visit,” says Dolph. He’s bigger than Bo. His hands are empty; that puts Bo at a disadvantage, even if the disadvantage is only the second it takes to move the ball.
“Not work,” says Bo. “I wonder if I could talk to Wolf a minute.”
Dolph jerks his head slightly, and the other guys move until one is standing right by Bo. The other lines up with me; it would be a clear shot through the open door of the truck.
“Well, come on in, then.” Dolph smiles. “Who you got there with you?”
“This is my sister, Valley. Come out the truck, Valley,” says Bo.
I get out slow, and we all walk down the road a minute. Dolph stops and the rest of us do, too.
“It’s OK, Valley,” says Bo. “Just do like me.” He puts his hands on his head and stands wide. One of the guys pats him down. I feel hands on me, too, hands that go where they want and touch what they want. Hands that run up under my shirt and across my skin. Hands that slide up and down the inside of my legs. I don’t like it, but I don’t flinch.
“Wolf’s in the Quonset,” says Dolph. “We’ll all walk on over there and let him know you’re here.”
And then we walk through the trees to meet Wolf.
They take Bo inside and close the door, but I don’t go. I’m left outside with the guy who patted me down. I turn away from him, away from the door that closed behind Bo. I look down the hillside. I can see sunlight glinting on water through the open spaces between the trees. If I walked that way, would he stop me? Could I just walk there, to the water’s edge? Would the water kiss and bend around me and hold me while my heart went tick, tick, tick? Or would that be reason enough to shoot?
The stubborn birds are singing in the trees.
If they have a silent way of killing, it will be my turn soon.
When they have finished, the stubborn birds will still be singing in the trees.
But the door opens and Bo comes out smiling. The man with him is smiling, too. He is tall. Taller than Bo. Taller than Da.
“It’s good,” he says. And I believe him. “Dolph, show them where to park their truck.”
One of the other guys punches Bo in the shoulder. “Hey, dude, we got a bonfire meeting tonight. Stormy is going to be glad to see you again. Damn your eyes.”
“This is Valley,” says Bo.
“I’m Wolf,” the tall man says to me. Things he doesn’t say, but things that I see in the way the other men obey: I am the leader here. What I say goes. “Bo tells me you could use a couple hours’ sleep. So we’ll talk more later, tonight maybe, by the fire, or tomorrow. But for now, get some sleep.”
Those are easy orders to follow.
The fire is by the lakeshore. Bo is there now. He is one of the moving shapes, half bright, half dark. I’m not. I am here, at a distance, under the trees. I can watch from here, but I don’t shine or show against the light of the fire. I’m a shadow, I’m a tree, I’m a shadow of a tree.
“Why aren’t you there, with them?” It’s Wolf’s voice behind me, where I can’t hear so well. I wish now that I had stayed in the back of the truck, in the solid dark, instead of following along to watch Bo. My hand is on the little knife in my pocket.
“I’m not with them because I’m not one of them,” I say. I turn to face him, but the light of the bonfire is burned into my eyes and hovers where I look.
“You would be welcome,” Wolf says. “There’s plenty of beer.”
“I don’t need beer.”
“Humh? You don’t have to need it to enjoy it.” If I could see Wolf’s face, he would be smiling. I
There are three guys shooting hoops. The court is the road. The hoop is nailed to a tree that leans over the packed dirt and gravel. They don’t even stop the game until Bo opens the door of the truck and gets out.
“Hey, Joe!” The one holding the ball flings it at Bo. Bo claps it out of the air. I did not know my brother could do that.
“Hey, Dolph,” says Bo.
“Unexpected visit,” says Dolph. He’s bigger than Bo. His hands are empty; that puts Bo at a disadvantage, even if the disadvantage is only the second it takes to move the ball.
“Not work,” says Bo. “I wonder if I could talk to Wolf a minute.”
Dolph jerks his head slightly, and the other guys move until one is standing right by Bo. The other lines up with me; it would be a clear shot through the open door of the truck.
“Well, come on in, then.” Dolph smiles. “Who you got there with you?”
“This is my sister, Valley. Come out the truck, Valley,” says Bo.
I get out slow, and we all walk down the road a minute. Dolph stops and the rest of us do, too.
“It’s OK, Valley,” says Bo. “Just do like me.” He puts his hands on his head and stands wide. One of the guys pats him down. I feel hands on me, too, hands that go where they want and touch what they want. Hands that run up under my shirt and across my skin. Hands that slide up and down the inside of my legs. I don’t like it, but I don’t flinch.
“Wolf’s in the Quonset,” says Dolph. “We’ll all walk on over there and let him know you’re here.”
And then we walk through the trees to meet Wolf.
They take Bo inside and close the door, but I don’t go. I’m left outside with the guy who patted me down. I turn away from him, away from the door that closed behind Bo. I look down the hillside. I can see sunlight glinting on water through the open spaces between the trees. If I walked that way, would he stop me? Could I just walk there, to the water’s edge? Would the water kiss and bend around me and hold me while my heart went tick, tick, tick? Or would that be reason enough to shoot?
The stubborn birds are singing in the trees.
If they have a silent way of killing, it will be my turn soon.
When they have finished, the stubborn birds will still be singing in the trees.
But the door opens and Bo comes out smiling. The man with him is smiling, too. He is tall. Taller than Bo. Taller than Da.
“It’s good,” he says. And I believe him. “Dolph, show them where to park their truck.”
One of the other guys punches Bo in the shoulder. “Hey, dude, we got a bonfire meeting tonight. Stormy is going to be glad to see you again. Damn your eyes.”
“This is Valley,” says Bo.
“I’m Wolf,” the tall man says to me. Things he doesn’t say, but things that I see in the way the other men obey: I am the leader here. What I say goes. “Bo tells me you could use a couple hours’ sleep. So we’ll talk more later, tonight maybe, by the fire, or tomorrow. But for now, get some sleep.”
Those are easy orders to follow.
The fire is by the lakeshore. Bo is there now. He is one of the moving shapes, half bright, half dark. I’m not. I am here, at a distance, under the trees. I can watch from here, but I don’t shine or show against the light of the fire. I’m a shadow, I’m a tree, I’m a shadow of a tree.
“Why aren’t you there, with them?” It’s Wolf’s voice behind me, where I can’t hear so well. I wish now that I had stayed in the back of the truck, in the solid dark, instead of following along to watch Bo. My hand is on the little knife in my pocket.
“I’m not with them because I’m not one of them,” I say. I turn to face him, but the light of the bonfire is burned into my eyes and hovers where I look.
“You would be welcome,” Wolf says. “There’s plenty of beer.”
“I don’t need beer.”
“Humh? You don’t have to need it to enjoy it.” If I could see Wolf’s face, he would be smiling. I
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