Red Sky in Morning (21 page)

Faller began to fold his leg in cloth and little Martha minor walked over and sat beside him and Aitken stepped inside. She looked up at the towering height of him.

I’m four and one quarters. At my next birthday I’ll be five.

Faller turned and stared at her face and then he looked at her small hands that held a jar. Inside was a green-barked frog keeping still. She shook the jar but the frog didn’t move.

I want him to jump, she said.

Are you going to keep him in there till he dies?

The girl looked at the jar and her eyes puzzled.

I’m just keeping it.

Let me tell you something, animals don’t like to be hemmed in you know.

Why’s that?

It goes against their nature.

She looked at the jar and looked up at him and held it out. Would you like to take it?

No I don’t want to take it.

Why not?

I don’t have any use for it.

The girl frowned and she looked at the jar and stood up and ran inside. Aitken appeared behind him. I would offer you a fresh shirt but you appear to be a good size bigger than I am, he said.

I am fine as I am.

Would you like to sit at the table for some supper?

Please.

He took a piece of meat and some potatoes and a piece of corn and he began to eat them in silence. He took a loaf of bread and he sawed it and he started to chew on the crust. The children watched and whispered and the mother scolded and told them to stop whispering. The boys stopped and then they were heard again and Aitken’s voice smarted. Speak up, he said. The boys went silent. Tell us what you were saying.

Nothing papa.

Martha scolded with her eyes. If it is good enough for you two to talk about it is good enough for the table.

The other boy spoke up, the words sliding awkward out of his mouth. Mark said the man didn’t say grace mama.

Faller chewed his food and then he looked up at Aitken. Fine boys you have there, he said.

Thank you Mr. Faller.

Yes. Fine boys indeed.

Tomorrow I can take you into town, Aitken said. I’ll have the team hitched for an early start. I’m going in anyways as I’ve some things to do.

Yes that will be good.

First light, the man said. Do you mind me asking, Mr. Faller, it’s just that you are not from these parts.

Go on.

What took you to these parts for hunting?

Faller sawed another slice of loaf and buttered it and he began to chew and then supped on a glass of water. He looked up at Aitken and smiled. A very troublesome creature.

Aitken looked at him and confusion lit his face and he looked at his wife and then he began to smile. Ah, the buck. Yes? Slippery creature so he is. Some fellas say the buck is more gamey. But I can detect no real difference between the meat of a doe and that of a buck myself.

Martha stood up and looked at the children.

You must excuse us, it is time to take these children to bed.

Aitken stood up and Faller stayed sitting down and as the children stood up there came three raps loudly on the front door. The family looked at each other and then they looked at Faller who was watching his food and he put his knife down and leaned back in his chair. He looked towards Aitken. Expecting? he said.

Aitken looked at his wife and she looked back. He shrugged and looked at the clock on the wall. Nope. Not at this hour.

When you go to the door and they ask you if you have anyone with you other than your own family you are to say you do not. Do you understand?

Aitken’s face flashed white then crimson and his eyes went funny and Faller leaned back in the chair again and opened the side of his coat to reveal his gun.

Just in case you be thinking otherwise.

Aitken swallowed and he did not look at his wife and he turned to answer the door. They listened to the wooden boards receive his steps with a moan like the boards themselves could speak for him, then the long squeak of the door opening slowly. The voice of a man, low. They heard Aitken speak and the other man spoke a minute and then the door was closed. Faller looked at the children. Aitken returned to the room. He spoke and his voice had changed. It was tight and trembling.

I done all I can but they said they know you are here and that you ain’t gone anyplace else. But they won’t come in because they know I got family. Believe me Mr. Faller I don’t care for who you are or for what cause these men say they want you for, for that’s none of my business, but they’re serious-looking men and they say they’re bounty hunters so please don’t do anything to hurt my children. Will you please go outside and talk with them?

Faller looked at him and leaned forward for the bread again and began to saw.

T
HEY WATCHED THE HANDS
of the mantelpiece clock climb slowly, the pendulum licking time like a lazy lizard’s tongue and nobody among that family hardly daring to breathe let alone talk and after fifteen minutes the clock took a deep mechanical breath and chimed nine. Aitken stirred and took courage and he blessed himself out loud and he began to lead a prayer and his wife and children clasped their hands and followed. Faller watched the man’s chinbeard pointing upwards and the earnestness in the gray lids of his eyes that seemed to flicker imperceptibly and when they blessed themselves and were finished they opened their eyes to find Faller staring at them.

Does he ever talk to you? he said.

Aitken looked at him nervously. Who?

God.

Aitken looked at his wife and then he looked at the door. In ways, he said.

In what ways?

In the beauty that’s all around us.

Faller smiled. But that’s hardly talking to you directly now is it? If you died the world would go on exactly as it was before so really nobody is talking to you at all. And do you look forward to life after death?

Yes sir I do.

Well let me tell you something about that. If you were looking forward to life after death why would you be praying now?

The man’s words stumbled in his mouth. Because I want my family to live. I want to live for my family.

But the fact remains is that you’re afraid of dying. If your heaven was paradise and the life ever after you’d be in a rush to get there. Wouldn’t you now? But you’re not. Isn’t that strange?

Faller looked at the children and smiled. Don’t you think your parents are strange?

The children looked at him blankly.

This place called heaven, this realm of perfection and life everlasting. When it comes down to it, nobody ever wants to go there. Now isn’t that strange? I’ll tell you what I’ve seen. I’ve seen faith fall apart at the moment of death. I’ve seen people fight it in every way how. I’ve seen the terror in their eyes. The scratching, the squirming. If god is life ever after then why is it nobody ever wants to go to him and meet him? I’ll tell you what I think. On a deep instinctive level, on a level that people prefer not to listen to, people do not believe in god. And I would have to agree.

He looked at Aitken who was sitting with his mouth open and his wife who had covered with her hands little Martha minor’s ears.

Don’t you think then that prayer is an amusing contradiction?

Silence swelling to take the place of the man’s words and then from outside came a man’s voice shouting.

You come out mister or we’re comin in.

Faller stood and took off his coat and folded it and placed it on the chair. He reached down and drew his gun with his right hand and he reached into a pocket and took out extra ammunition and he put it on the table.

One more minute and we’re comin.

Faller nodded in the direction of the voice. I wonder if he’s religious?

Aitken blanched and he stood to move his children and Faller told him to sit and the man wavered as if the air around him had thickened right then to a mucilage miring his feet and with the effort of wading he sat down. Faller picked up his gun and tipped it forward to examine it and the family stared at it too like it was something dead or monstrous in his hand and Martha began to cry.

I told you we’re coming.

T
HE RASP OF A DOOR
opening slow on its hinges and board squeak from the men stealing in. Faller stood and turned and collared the little girl beside him with his left hand and lifted her out of the grasp of her mother clean into the air. He hoisted her in front of his body and he turned towards the door and the little girl screamed and her mother scrambled the air with her hands towards her. Faller kicked her back down and then the men from outside were coming in, their rifles pointed in the door and the first man paused as he came through to take in the sight of the girl hanging in the air in front of him and in the moment of his hesitation Faller shot him dead. The man’s legs collapsed from under him and Faller dropped the child into a swing and launched her into the air at the other man taking aim with his gun and the man recoiled in horror as the child flew towards him, dropped the weapon to catch the child as she crashed into him and Faller was already on top of him as they fell to the ground and he smiled into the man’s eyes and fired the other round into his head. He looked up towards the hall and took the man’s rifle and swung smoothly upwards on the ball of his foot and then he was out the door.

Lamplight on the yard like spilt buttermilk. He saw the shape of another man leaping upon a saddle and he aimed the rifle and shouted at the man to hold still. The man did nothing on the horse but put his hands into the air and Faller went to him, an Indian man in a suit with long glossy hair knotted in a tail, and the man mumbled words that he was only a tracker.

Get off the horse.

The man did as he was told and he swung his leg back over the beast and when he turned around Faller shot him in the stomach. The man crumpled and fell and curled on the ground and Faller kicked his involuting body open and checked him for arms, found a bowie knife and threw it. He went to the man’s horse and tied it to the fence and he walked around to the back of the house where a barn stood beside it and he went in and untied Aitken’s horse. He walked the animal around to the front and found the two horses belonging to the dead men and he shooed those three horses into the night and kept the Indian’s horse for himself. He stepped over the dying man and went into the house. The family were huddled in a corner and only Aitken wasn’t crying. The two dead men lay by the door and Faller bent to them and began to nose their pockets. He took the men’s wallets and examined their contents and he emptied their cash and left the notes and the wallets on the table. He took his coat from the chair and put it on and he bent down towards them, held them with a blank stare and smiled.

H
E SAT UP AND WATCHED
the sun blood the canvas of the tent. The smothered sounds of sleep and the whimpers of the sick. He hears also from another place the pounding of the rain like drumming fingers and the sigh of the soaking earth, hears the sloshing surf polishing the bay. Thinks of the Inishowen wind curling cold on his ears and he hears voices too, the swirl of his mother crying when his father did not come back, the booming call of Jim, the way Sarah would gather the tinder and bundle them into neat lines, the child hiding in the churn. Oh the small place left behind unfolding into a universe. His ear cocked to the absence of it.

H
E ROSE BEFORE THE OTHERS
and went to the water station and dipped the canister and slugged. Duffy usually the first about but his horse was not tied to the post. A fire began to wink at the blacksmith’s small forge and he walked over to ask, met the man supping on a tin cup, his fingers black and his apron burnt. The blacksmith shook his head to the question. Haven’t seen him not since yesterday.

He walked to the firepit and futhered with his hands and he looked to the west of the valley where the darkness was being stirred bright. The men staggered from their tents and they went about eating and he heard two of them say they were leaving. He watched them head off to find the foreman and then return cursing when he was not to be found.

No sign of The Cutter either and he went to look for him. He looked in the tent and went back again to the pit and the others just shrugged and then one of them said he saw him go behind the shanty and pointed. He found the man behind the tents bent on his knees and clutching. Oh god, Coyle said. The Cutter smiled weakly, his pants around his ankles and his face waxen. He whispered. Just gimme a minute.

He looked at him and bent down to help him get up and The Cutter went to stand but was weak and fell over. Can you get me some water?

Coyle went away and came back with a canister and he gave it to The Cutter to drink. The water sluiced down the rocks of his jaw onto his shirt and when he was done Coyle took the canister back off him. The Cutter hitched up his trousers and fumbled at the button and he wiped his mouth and Coyle slung an arm underneath him. Over here. He helped him to the tent where he made him lie down and then he went off to get more water.

The morning began to stretch with no sign of Duffy and no sign of Doyle either and some of them said they were going to work regardless and they walked up to the cut. Others sat about saying they were doing nothing till they were told what to do and when they saw The Cutter was sick in their tent they told him to get out. They sat about idle, smoking their pipes and some of them watching Coyle carry The Cutter to the sick tent while others pitched into their whiskey oblivious.

The sick tent was near full, men lying on their backs with their mouths open in supplication for water, and he met the freckled face of a nun. She looked at The Cutter and pointed quietly to a place near the door for him to lie down. The Cutter holding his belly and his eyes growing glassy and distant and the only word from his lips was for water and Coyle sat down to feed him.

F
ALLER SAT STILL ON A ROCK
on the crest of a hill, took off his boots and watched a rim of sun halo the earth. He took off his hat and scratched his head and rubbed his face and put the hat back on. A small fire crackling beside him and he inhaled the smell of smoke as he fed the flames with twigs. Above the flames on a spit he rotated a rabbit, sleeved of skin and blistering and brown and spitting fat, and he drank from a water bottle and then he took out his pipe from his pocket. He opened his tobacco tin and it was empty but for dregs in the corner and he tossed them into the palm of his hand and funneled them into the pipe. He tamped it down and took a stick from the fire and held it to the pipe and sucked on it till it flamed and he smoked what was left of the tobacco before it burned out. When the rabbit was cooked he lifted the skewered meat and put it down on the grass and he cut strips off it with his knife and he lifted the meat to his lips and blew cold air on it and chewed hungrily.