Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) (16 page)

Trent pointed at Deshavi meaningfully, as in reference to a double parallel between them.

“I broke my leg badly and the party all went away, as did my dreams of being a football star.”

Again he pointed at her suggestively. “But you know what happened? It took a while, but my leg healed and once again I was the same as before physically, but I decided to take a different path in life. A destructive one. One that I nearly didn’t get out of before it destroyed me. I would have died in my fallen lifestyle, if it hadn’t been for my mother banging on heaven’s door in prayer on behalf of me!”

Deshavi’s gaze wobbled slightly away and she started to step back in the water, but Trent held her fast by the shoulders.

“Your scars are almost healed and your bruises are fading away and you look as beautiful as you ever did! Why on Earth do you think I wouldn’t be attracted to you? Now comes a choice that only you can make. You can keep on believing the worst of me and confuse me up with all the men who raped you or you can realize all over again that I love you and to me you’ll always be my girl of summer despite whatever you may look like or what’s been done to you!”

Trent’s hands came off her shoulders and spread wide, as he backed away through the water.

“You can take the rest of the stitches out for yourself or have Caleb do it. Either way I’m not going to lay a hand on you till you ask me to and sincerely want my touch and affection. I’m not the kind of scum that would ever take advantage of a woman like you have been, and I don’t like being grouped together with those who have!”

Deshavi quickly responded in a shaken tone, “I never said you were like them!”

“You inferred it!” Trent shot back in response.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to!”

“Okay then, apology accepted, but I’m still keeping a distance from you, until you show me you still want something more with me and Deshavi I very much want that to happen!”

It had been quite a while since Trent had left. Perhaps my plan had worked too well. No, I trusted Trent too much for that. Just then Trent appeared. I noted the wet pant legs and water spotted shirt. Ahhh a successful mission then.

He didn’t stop in the camp, but kept on stalking past it toward the head of the cut. Poor boy I’d put him through hell with this little chore, but once again he’d shown what a fine man he was.

I was laying on my back resting letting my eyes drift upward to the blue sky overhead, as I contemplated the second act of the drama that I was embroiled in. Not too long after Trent’s disappearance in walked my granddaughter. I watched her gracefully comb some of her wet hair behind one ear. What a positive sign that was.

Uh Oh!

I began to sense I was in trouble, if the measured tone of her stride toward me was any indication. I kept my features serene, as she quietly sat down on a rock close beside me. Her face was hard to read and I hoped mine was too.

“You meddle too much in other people’s affairs grandfather. You put him up to that didn’t you?”

I nodded admitting my guilt.

“You’ve always pushed too hard!” She stated with emphasis.

I nodded again.

She looked away and I couldn’t get a read on what she was thinking.

“Is it working?”

She nodded slowly, “Maybe.” She said softly. Her eyes came back to mine and I saw the raw pain she’d been masking.

Emotion rose in her tone, as she started talking, “I thought I lost everything! But he says it’s all still there! I want to believe him! I want the future we had planned together, but I don’t know if I can.…..” She said her voice trailing off miserable sounding.

“Avoid disappointing him?” I filled in for her.

She nodded emphatically before saying, “I feel thin. I feel like if I try too much I’ll snap and go crazy!”

I nodded in understanding more deep than she knew.

She grew quiet and I watched the emotions and self-doubts that swirled across her face.

“I was tortured once.”

Her eyes abruptly halted from her thoughts and showed surprised instead, “When?”

“Long before you were born.”

“You’ve never talked about it.” She said softly prompting.

“Well, as I’m sure you can attest to, it’s not something you want to remember let alone talk about with anyone. In a way it’s quite humiliating isn’t it?”

“Yes!” She intoned emphatically, but I went on, as if I hadn’t heard her speak.

“All of your basic concepts of self and life and the way you live it yanked out and exposed. Turned on end and broken. I know the crisis of identity you’re going through honey. Some of your struggle will be with you for the rest of your life, but it doesn’t have to define you or be how you’re known by.”

“Who helped you?” She asked softly.

“Your grandmother. She was an amazing woman. I kept telling her that I wasn’t the same man that I was before. She just kept telling me and treating me like I was and one day I realized that I was.”

I reached out to gently touch her taped together fingers. “Trent’s that person for you.”

She nodded, as tears fell freely down her face.

“He can help you pick up the pieces, but it’s going to take Divine help to glue them all back together.”

She nodded.

“Do you mind if I pray with you?”

“I would like that!”

And that’s what I did.

Having been done praying for a few moments and just basking in the peace that comes, when needed most, I decided it was time to complete this positively upturned day. I made my way up to my feet slowly. Taking her good hand I pulled her up and roundly smacked Deshavi on the bottom.

She backed away from me in surprise rubbing at her rear as she did so, “What was that for?”

“To keep you from getting too complacent. Go on with you now! There’s reconstruction work to be done.”

“Now?” She asked uncertainly.

“Yes now! What are you waiting for, a golden invitation?”

She smiled at me, the first in what seemed like an age. She came to me then and her arms looped around me in a hug, which I gently returned.

She drew back a little, “You’ve always pushed too hard, but you’ve always been there for me to. Thank you grandpa for everything!”

I watched her go then. I shook my head, as I thought to myself how odd it was that the battles and torments of one’s own past could become the object lessons and encouragements needed to help the younger generation through the difficulties they faced in the present. It was sort of like I had been paving the way forward for them with my life. I liked being able to do it for them, but I just wished I hadn’t had to experience what I had just the same. Still, if what happens to one in life is largely unavoidable, then at least some of the bad occurrences I had suffered were turning out with more positive endings to them.

Deshavi’s foot snapped a twig and Trent looked around and showed surprise at seeing her. They were at the opening of the cut and it was colder there. Deshavi, with her arms wrapped around herself, for warmth, surprised Trent even further by stepping up against his chest.

Before he could frame a question of why or ask what was wrong she looked up and sincerely asked, “Could you just please hold me and tell me I’m pretty?”

Trent’s arms closed around her with a gentle firmness. “You were never pretty Deshavi. You’ve always been nothing but beautiful to me!”

I stuttered to awakeness by reason of a persistent nightly urge. Oh it sucked to get old, especially always having to go at night! Grumpily I got up and left the campsite to deal with my pressing need. When I came back to the campsite I stirred up the embers of the dying fire into a small blaze, as I like the extra heat at night.

I got up from the fire and started to head back for my blanket and pallet of dried grass, when I saw something that gave me pause. I stepped closer wanting to see more of what the firelight had revealed. I had noticed that Deshavi and Trent had bedded down closer to each other and now I knew why.

Both of them lay on their sides facing each other with one outstretched arm toward one another. There in the dust that lay between them their fingers were entwined with each other, in a firm clasp that hadn’t let go, even while they slept. Deshavi’s face was so peaceful.

I guess it didn’t matter what age you lived to, the right combination of things could still make one lose it and cry like an emotional baby. I wiped at my tears, as I turned away from the touching scene of renewal.

“Oh God please help me get these two home safe, even if it comes at the cost of my own life!” I whispered out fervently into the night.

It was hard leaving our sheltered little warm haven to head back out into the cold harshness of the wilderness beyond, but it had to be done. The snow was deep, but not a problem due to the work of my idle hands over the past several days. I hadn’t had the best materials to work with, but I’d been able to fashion some crude, but effective snowshoes during our time in the cut. We moved out easily overtop the snow on them and headed south. We had meat left over from our kills, some edible roots I had managed to find and some rations yet. It was about the best you could ask for in Siberia.

Chapter Sixteen

Three Fires

A day turned into a week. The skies remained clear and our progress south was completely unimpeded by man or nature alike. I sensed that it wasn’t to last though.

It was terrible to cast such a gloomy dispersion on such a positive vibe, as what we had going on in the present. When I had awoken this morning something just hadn’t set well about the new day and as a result I had kept on my guard, even more so than usual.

I let Trent lead, while I followed in the rear with my rifle clutched in my arms. Trent had noticed and as a result he was more on edge than typical as well. Only Deshavi seemed oblivious to the tension of the day and I tried to purposely keep it so. Perhaps nothing would happen and everything would be fine and I was just having an off sixth sense day.

Yeah, I doubted that though.

Chantry had always said that one of my finest skills of being an agent was that I seemed to sense, when things were about to go wrong, before anyone else did. Surviving through the situations, that I had up till now, seemed to bear out the efficacy of that six sense somewhat. Truthfully though, I had been lucky more than anything else. It was one thing to sense danger ahead, but it was an entirely different set of circumstances and skills needed in order to deflect whatever curveball way the danger came at you.

My attention was drawn to Deshavi. She walked in between Trent and I and she was currently looking upward and making faces at the angry chattering squirrels whose pine grove we were trespassing in. She had really opened up over the past week and smiles had been a much more common appearance on her face.

I glanced up despairingly at the chattering squirrels and Deshavi must’ve noticed, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like squirrels anymore? You used to keep them as tame as pets around the house when I was growing up.”

I shook my head, “I only did that for you and those were Idaho squirrels, these are Siberian.”

“So? What’s the difference? They’re still just squirrels.” She said not understanding.

How different and much harsher Siberia was then much of the rest of the world. There was a whole different set of rules in play here.

“In the deep winter, when food is at its scarcest these same squirrels that you’re making faces at have been known to pack together and bring down large prey. They turn completely carnivorous in order to survive. Humans have been on the menu quite a few times over the years.”

Deshavi looked appalled and looked up now at the chattering nut hurling throng in the trees with new awareness. I hated to destroy her image of the cute peaceable looking creatures, but it was best that she knew what nature was capable of in Siberia. Nature often could and did bite, when you least expected it.

The squirrels abruptly halted their chattering and there was silence in the forest. In a way I relaxed and yet my grip on my rifle tightened. Our hunters, in this scene were not human, which in a way was good, but it was a bit like starving to death and having the option of eating one of two bugs. Which did you choose? The bigger one or the smaller one? Whichever you chose it still wasn’t going to taste good.

I caught sight of a fast-moving patch of gray fur off to our right in the pine grove. An ancient enemy was stalking us, wolves. Trent must’ve seen it too, because he glanced back concerned, and I mouthed, “Keep walking.”

He nodded and we kept going on, as Deshavi walked between us keeping a wary eye directed upward at the silently watching squirrels. Occasionally carnivorous squirrels were the least of our problems at the moment. True I had a rifle cradled in my arms and ammunition enough to easily take out several packs of wolves, but I didn’t want to use them for fear of bringing down our human hunters upon us. Humans by far were the worst predator of all.

The wolves would likely shadow us, until dark, before closing in. I glanced down at the rifle in my hands and reflected on what a change had occurred over the period of time of the past several centuries. Here I was again in the lands that my ancestors had passed through on their great migration to the Americas and yet everything was so different now.

After the discovery of the skull and Ted’s initial explanation of the Ice Age to me I had pestered him for more of his knowledge of the time period, as I had become quite fascinated by it. This pack of gray wolves hounding us were small reason for concern, in comparison to the threats that my ancestors had to deal with on a daily basis, and they hadn’t had the high powered weapons that I did. The archaeological evidence seemed to suggest that the colonization of the Americas, instead of taking place during one massive migration of peoples, had instead occurred in smaller movements of people at a time spaced out over long periods of time.

Some reasons for the slowed migration could’ve been that people lost the skills needed to build ships capable of ocean voyage or perhaps parts of the land bridge became impassable by rising water or heavy storms for years at a time.