home.
“Let’s do it, Ben,” Alice finally said.
“I trust him. I’m not sure why, but I do.”
She stepped into the meadow, but Ben
stood his ground. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice hushed. “I trusted a
fellow too, once. Remember? All it did was get me shot. What if he’s—what if
he’s one of them ?”
“Damn it, Ben,” she said impatiently. “We
have to learn how to trust again if we’re going to make our way! He knows the
area. Maybe he can help us. And aren’t you at least a little curious about what
he said? Ben, he said we were being followed ! Doesn’t that bother you?”
Ben scanned the woods. He looked at
Alice, who shrugged in frustration. With a sigh, he followed her into the meadow
and up to the deer man’s shack.
Buck, apparently, was a disciple of an
overlooked school of interior design: Middle-21 st Century Deer.
Glass-eyed trophies of every size and shape leered from all four walls. A tidy little
bed stood in the corner, and there was a table and chairs and a little kitchen.
A bookshelf held thirty or forty titles. Ben thumbed through them while the
deer man fixed coffee at the stove. “I know a place where there’s still quite a
store of the stuff,” he said when he had the coffee on the table. Grinning, he
even produced a canister of sugar, placing it in the center of the table with
obvious pride. “It’s instant, but it’s better than nothing. I’ve got it knocked
on how to make a decent cup of the stuff.”
“So,” he said when they were all seated,
“what are you two doing in my woods?”
“We’re going to Bickley,” Alice said.
“We’re hoping to find some supplies there.”
The man nodded. He sipped his drink, a
few droplets glistening in the long whiskers of his moustache. His red beard was
streaked with gray and he had bright brown eyes that didn’t often blink. Ben
put him at 6’5” and 220 pounds—maybe a little more.
“Bickley’s a dangerous place, I’m
afraid. Course, there’s not many places that aren’t anymore. Go if you must,
but there’s a good chance it’ll end badly. You two,” he winked at them, “aren’t
impossible to keep tabs on, you know. I made you almost immediately yesterday
afternoon. So did those other boys.”
“Other boys?” Ben said. He was almost
finished with his coffee, the old delicious treat warming him from head to toe.
He had to remind himself to slow down, to savor it.
Buck nodded. “Three of them. I don’t recognize
‘em right off, so I can’t say where they’re from for sure, but I reckon they
work for Talmidge. They were up into the wee hours, watching you , son,”
he pointed at Ben with a large index finger. “Saw you in the firelight.”
“Please, call me Ben. And this is Alice.
You…you saw them?”
“Like I said, I was keeping tabs on you.
If those boys were going to move on you, I’d have helped you out. But they left
long before dawn and I haven’t seen ‘em yet today. If you really want to go to
Bickley, it’s just another few hours by foot. I can show you how to get there.”
“We…we’re looking for seeds,” Alice blurted.
She waited for his reaction.
“Seeds?” he said, braying laughter. “You
uh…you folks plan to do a little farming, do you?”
“Could be,” Ben replied. “We thought
we’d give it a shot.”
Buck stroked his beard. “Well, I doubt
it’ll work for you, but at least you’re trying. I’ll give you that. I’ve
managed to grow some herbs myself—mostly indoors, mind you. Sage and whatnot.
Don’t have much of a green thumb, truth to tell. But…well, I guess there’s an
old hardware store that just might still have some. It’s out on the Trout River
Road. That’ll steer you clear of Bickley—maybe even keep you out of harm’s way in
the process. There’s a wicked element in that little town. Eddie Talmidge lives
there, and ol’ Eddie doesn’t take kindly to outsiders poking around his little
village.”
Ben nodded. “Thanks for
“Let’s do it, Ben,” Alice finally said.
“I trust him. I’m not sure why, but I do.”
She stepped into the meadow, but Ben
stood his ground. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice hushed. “I trusted a
fellow too, once. Remember? All it did was get me shot. What if he’s—what if
he’s one of them ?”
“Damn it, Ben,” she said impatiently. “We
have to learn how to trust again if we’re going to make our way! He knows the
area. Maybe he can help us. And aren’t you at least a little curious about what
he said? Ben, he said we were being followed ! Doesn’t that bother you?”
Ben scanned the woods. He looked at
Alice, who shrugged in frustration. With a sigh, he followed her into the meadow
and up to the deer man’s shack.
Buck, apparently, was a disciple of an
overlooked school of interior design: Middle-21 st Century Deer.
Glass-eyed trophies of every size and shape leered from all four walls. A tidy little
bed stood in the corner, and there was a table and chairs and a little kitchen.
A bookshelf held thirty or forty titles. Ben thumbed through them while the
deer man fixed coffee at the stove. “I know a place where there’s still quite a
store of the stuff,” he said when he had the coffee on the table. Grinning, he
even produced a canister of sugar, placing it in the center of the table with
obvious pride. “It’s instant, but it’s better than nothing. I’ve got it knocked
on how to make a decent cup of the stuff.”
“So,” he said when they were all seated,
“what are you two doing in my woods?”
“We’re going to Bickley,” Alice said.
“We’re hoping to find some supplies there.”
The man nodded. He sipped his drink, a
few droplets glistening in the long whiskers of his moustache. His red beard was
streaked with gray and he had bright brown eyes that didn’t often blink. Ben
put him at 6’5” and 220 pounds—maybe a little more.
“Bickley’s a dangerous place, I’m
afraid. Course, there’s not many places that aren’t anymore. Go if you must,
but there’s a good chance it’ll end badly. You two,” he winked at them, “aren’t
impossible to keep tabs on, you know. I made you almost immediately yesterday
afternoon. So did those other boys.”
“Other boys?” Ben said. He was almost
finished with his coffee, the old delicious treat warming him from head to toe.
He had to remind himself to slow down, to savor it.
Buck nodded. “Three of them. I don’t recognize
‘em right off, so I can’t say where they’re from for sure, but I reckon they
work for Talmidge. They were up into the wee hours, watching you , son,”
he pointed at Ben with a large index finger. “Saw you in the firelight.”
“Please, call me Ben. And this is Alice.
You…you saw them?”
“Like I said, I was keeping tabs on you.
If those boys were going to move on you, I’d have helped you out. But they left
long before dawn and I haven’t seen ‘em yet today. If you really want to go to
Bickley, it’s just another few hours by foot. I can show you how to get there.”
“We…we’re looking for seeds,” Alice blurted.
She waited for his reaction.
“Seeds?” he said, braying laughter. “You
uh…you folks plan to do a little farming, do you?”
“Could be,” Ben replied. “We thought
we’d give it a shot.”
Buck stroked his beard. “Well, I doubt
it’ll work for you, but at least you’re trying. I’ll give you that. I’ve
managed to grow some herbs myself—mostly indoors, mind you. Sage and whatnot.
Don’t have much of a green thumb, truth to tell. But…well, I guess there’s an
old hardware store that just might still have some. It’s out on the Trout River
Road. That’ll steer you clear of Bickley—maybe even keep you out of harm’s way in
the process. There’s a wicked element in that little town. Eddie Talmidge lives
there, and ol’ Eddie doesn’t take kindly to outsiders poking around his little
village.”
Ben nodded. “Thanks for
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