Renewal 7 - When the Student Is Ready by Jf Perkins Page A

Just talking that long was hard. His throat was dry and verging on sore, and his voice was getting rough. Being charming and funny made it even harder. He had made several broad hints that he was wrapping up his session, but new questions kept coming.
    Terry was saved by the sound of new trucks approaching from the east. That was the direction to the Jenkins farm, at least by road, and Seth made the cautious conclusion. He leaped into the truck like the world’s biggest cat, and came out with two military rifles three seconds later. He handed one to Terry and set up with Big Bertha as cover over the highway entrance to the square. Terry moved to the front bumper and raised his rifle in the same direction.
    The diesels grew louder. Terry saw Dusty scoot into the survey office and come out with a near twin to his own rifle. The crowd in the square began to realize that this could mean danger, and started moving in an aimless search for safety. They had lived under the gun for so long that it was never a matter of panic. It was more a fatalistic token effort to avoid being run over by brutal chance.
    The first truck was a twin to Big Bertha. It was followed by two more of the same style and two flatbed trucks. Terry saw the State Attorney General, Charlie, waving from the passenger seat of the lead truck, and lowered his rifle. “It’s Charlie!”
    Dusty looked at Terry and asked, “Charlie? Who the heck is Charlie?”
    “He’s a friend. It’s ok.” Terry replied. “He’s the AG. We saved his son in Nashville.”
    “Oh, that Charlie...” Dusty said.
    “He’s bringing food, the aid supplies.”
    “That’ll help when we start asking the hard questions,” Dusty said.
    “That’s Bill’s plan.”
    “How is it that you suddenly know more than me, Young Shelton?” Dusty asked with a sideways grin.
    “Right place at the right time, I guess,” Terry said.
    Charlie directed his trucks into a broad, side-by-side line on the wide north side of the square. They pulled up in turns and hissed to a stop. Charlie stayed in his seat until state police deployed from the vehicle. Terry knew that, with these officers, virtually the entire operational state police was here in Coffee County today.  Terry walked over to Charlie’s truck, Seth right behind him. Dusty came along more cautiously. The people in the square were taking their cues from Terry, and the crowd noticeably relaxed, letting the festival atmosphere recover the mood.
    Terry stepped up on the massive bumper of Charlie’s truck, swung his rifle over his shoulder on its strap, and held out his hands for quiet. This time, they stopped talking. “Folks, you know those aid shipments we’re supposed to get? The ones that Jenkins and the other families always steal and sell back to us? Well, things have changed. The State has agreed to handle the distribution of the shipments until we can get a real government working here, and this is the first shipment.”
    The crowd struggled to comprehend what he was saying. They had never seen a free lunch – ever.
    “Here to deliver the first food into your hands is the Tennessee State Attorney General, Charlie Bell!” Terry had to start the applause himself, since clapping was another nearly forgotten expression. There were few older people in the crowd who joined in, but most of the people simply waited to see what would happen next.
    Charlie dropped from the tall seat of the truck and scrambled up on the bumper with Terry. He was a true politician. He gauged the crowd full of suspicious faces before he said a word. Terry intended to step down, giving Charlie the stage, but Charlie subtly held Terry’s arm, locking him in position.
    “Folks, my name is Charlie Bell. I’m in charge of the law in Tennessee, and I know that doesn’t mean much these days. I came here for a number of good reasons today, but before I talk about that, I want to apologize to all you good people. Thanks to Terry and Seth, and some friends of