saving Marcy’s life. She would never leave Marcy here alone with that man. Then, exhausted by the trauma of the past two days, Macy fell asleep deep in the fur of the haven that Sheriff provided.
15 The Owls at Night
Making sure the girl still slept, Campos quietly left the house to shut down the town for the night. “Time to close up shop,” he said only to himself.
He’d made good progress today after clearing out most of the contaminated food from the market. “One more day will do it,” he told himself. “With the girl’s help, it might go even faster—if she works hard enough.”
Smiling to himself, Campos felt happy to have someone to take care of as long as she pulled her weight. No slackers here , he thought. She wasn’t as strong, not like the workforce of men he’d rather have, but at least he’d have someone to talk to about the events that happened on any given day. Truth be told, he felt kind of lonely these days; even though his father had never been a nice sort, Campos missed him. And Ben, the postmaster, could be counted on to greet him every time he came into the post office, handing over the mail and stopping to chat a bit. But Campos had recently found old Ben slumped over the breakfast table at his home, and he had buried him and his wife in their backyard.
“I’ll have to come up with some chores for the girl. Jobs she can do to keep her busy,” Campos said to himself.
“I don’t like the little bitch,” replied another voice.
“She’s a darling girl, and she needs a home,” the she-voice insisted.
Getting angry now, Campos said under his breath, “You leave her alone; only I talk to her. I’m warning you all.” Campos stopped midstride on his way to the fire pit, hoping he had made himself clear to the others. He rarely even acknowledged the voices within, but he knew they could be a problem for the girl.
There were things he couldn’t even remember, and he feared that those were times one of the others took over. He would find himself in a different place, with parts of the day missing; that’s what had happened with the whore woman and the beggar man. He knew he’d have to find his medication soon; the girl’s safety depended on it. Some of the others were fine—friendly, even—but one in particular scared him.
Pulling on the makeshift barbed wire fence he’d rigged up along the open road, he closed up the front entrance. It wasn’t a surefire locking system, but at least it kept the wild animals from wandering into town. When he’d walked outside a few days ago early in the morning, he’d found, out of his peripheral vision, a wolf standing sure as you please on the corner of the bank plaza. The wolf watched his every move, and then walked with those big pads of his off to the side. He finally disappeared between the buildings and into the brush.
From that point on had Campos decided to at least put up a few fences to dissuade the wild animals from freely roaming into town at night. Each morning he opened them up again for anyone of the two-legged variety who wanted the option of staying or trading.
Walking to the other end of town for the back entrance, Campos stopped at the market parking lot. There he found that the fire in the bin had died down from lack of fuel. He pushed the shopping cart back into the line of carts, turned off the lights, and closed the door he’d propped open earlier. Then, listening to the nightly insect chattering and the rhythm of his own boot steps, he walked to the darker back entrance and secured up his town for the night.
With a bit more pep in his step than in previous days, Campos thought about how the events of the day had finally taken a turn for the better. He looked forward to tomorrow. He’d feed the girl some breakfast and then find her a better home to live in. Not too far away from him, though, in case she needed him. Perhaps the one next door where Mrs. Walker had lived with her daughter, who had not been
15 The Owls at Night
Making sure the girl still slept, Campos quietly left the house to shut down the town for the night. “Time to close up shop,” he said only to himself.
He’d made good progress today after clearing out most of the contaminated food from the market. “One more day will do it,” he told himself. “With the girl’s help, it might go even faster—if she works hard enough.”
Smiling to himself, Campos felt happy to have someone to take care of as long as she pulled her weight. No slackers here , he thought. She wasn’t as strong, not like the workforce of men he’d rather have, but at least he’d have someone to talk to about the events that happened on any given day. Truth be told, he felt kind of lonely these days; even though his father had never been a nice sort, Campos missed him. And Ben, the postmaster, could be counted on to greet him every time he came into the post office, handing over the mail and stopping to chat a bit. But Campos had recently found old Ben slumped over the breakfast table at his home, and he had buried him and his wife in their backyard.
“I’ll have to come up with some chores for the girl. Jobs she can do to keep her busy,” Campos said to himself.
“I don’t like the little bitch,” replied another voice.
“She’s a darling girl, and she needs a home,” the she-voice insisted.
Getting angry now, Campos said under his breath, “You leave her alone; only I talk to her. I’m warning you all.” Campos stopped midstride on his way to the fire pit, hoping he had made himself clear to the others. He rarely even acknowledged the voices within, but he knew they could be a problem for the girl.
There were things he couldn’t even remember, and he feared that those were times one of the others took over. He would find himself in a different place, with parts of the day missing; that’s what had happened with the whore woman and the beggar man. He knew he’d have to find his medication soon; the girl’s safety depended on it. Some of the others were fine—friendly, even—but one in particular scared him.
Pulling on the makeshift barbed wire fence he’d rigged up along the open road, he closed up the front entrance. It wasn’t a surefire locking system, but at least it kept the wild animals from wandering into town. When he’d walked outside a few days ago early in the morning, he’d found, out of his peripheral vision, a wolf standing sure as you please on the corner of the bank plaza. The wolf watched his every move, and then walked with those big pads of his off to the side. He finally disappeared between the buildings and into the brush.
From that point on had Campos decided to at least put up a few fences to dissuade the wild animals from freely roaming into town at night. Each morning he opened them up again for anyone of the two-legged variety who wanted the option of staying or trading.
Walking to the other end of town for the back entrance, Campos stopped at the market parking lot. There he found that the fire in the bin had died down from lack of fuel. He pushed the shopping cart back into the line of carts, turned off the lights, and closed the door he’d propped open earlier. Then, listening to the nightly insect chattering and the rhythm of his own boot steps, he walked to the darker back entrance and secured up his town for the night.
With a bit more pep in his step than in previous days, Campos thought about how the events of the day had finally taken a turn for the better. He looked forward to tomorrow. He’d feed the girl some breakfast and then find her a better home to live in. Not too far away from him, though, in case she needed him. Perhaps the one next door where Mrs. Walker had lived with her daughter, who had not been
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