What we reckon, p.27
What We Reckon, page 27
Upon taking moral inventory of her current situation, Summer reckoned herself good and fucked. For the first time, she could find no one to blame but herself. Her cheeks flushed with blood and her heart filled with mighty shame. She took ample time to think back on her every decision since arriving at the ranch and tried her level best to decipher which one it was that led her so far astray.
Hux had no time for crisis. He turned his back to her and started again for the Big House. Over his shoulder, he called to her.
“I’m adding another Principle. It’s called Loyalty. It’s one you’d be smart to work on.”
“Ain’t nobody more loyal than me, Jackie.”
Hux paused his parade. Whatever he meant to say, he thought better of. Instead, he said, “Show me how loyal you are by fetching Lindsay. Tell her I’ll be waiting.”
Hux disappeared into the Big House. This time, Summer did not follow him.
Donnie’s moment of clarity wouldn’t come until much later in the year, near about June, when he awoke with a start upon the linoleum floor of an RV pushed to the furthest reaches of the property. He couldn’t recall how long he’d lived there, thanks to a somehow steady supply of booze and the speed by which the pages of the calendar had flipped. What he realized, however, was that he’d finally grown sick and tired of being sick and tired and it was high time he acted.
He shot like a bolt into his britches, which he found scattered across the camper. On the mattress in the corner, young Beth Ann stretched, yawned, and kicked away enough of the covers to show off her assets. She watched him dress and smiled coyly.
“Why don’t you get back in the bed?” she asked him. “I got a favorite way to start the day and, if you give me a minute, I’m sure it will be your favorite way in no time.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Donnie said, shimmying into a dirty t-shirt, “this has got to stop.”
“Ugh…” She rolled over, sticking her ass up high. “You sound like a broken record. You’ll huff and puff all day long and never once make eye contact, but by the time midnight rolls around, you’ll stand outside the window of my RV to howl like an alley cat. What do you say we cut out all the middle business and get right to the screwing?”
“I can’t keep living like this.” Donnie swung wide his arms, but misjudged the size of the skinny trailer. He skinned his knuckles against the wood paneling and knocked his knees at the cabinetry. He missed living in the Big House. He’d hooted and hollered when Hux ordered Donnie out to the yard, but placated him by sending Beth Ann around to his RV wearing nothing but a smile and a bottle of corn liquor crooked at her finger. It served to distract him a good month or so, but now Donnie put down his foot. “This is a horrible way to live.”
“There’s bigger trailers,” Beth Ann said. “The one those two newbies moved into last week is twice the size of this. All you’ve got to do is pull rank on them and y’all can swap.”
“I’m not talking about the trailer.” Donnie pulled a pair of mismatched socks from beneath the mattress, then slipped into them. He did his level best to smooth the wrinkles in his slacks. “I’m talking about all of it. The drinking, the sneaking around…it’s not good for my soul.”
“We don’t have to be so sneaky about it,” Beth Ann said. “Everybody knows we’re doing it.”
“That’s not the—wait…what do you mean everybody knows?”
She sat up and twitched her frisky titties. She moved to an imperceptible beat and twirled the ends of her hair.
“But sexual congress is specifically forbidden by the Principles,” Donnie said. “Especially at a stage where—”
“Oh, Hux got rid of that stupid Principle a long time ago,” Beth Ann giggled. “We’ve got new ones. Want me to recite them to you?”
Donnie racked his memory best he could. When had the Principles been changed? How long and how much had he been drinking? Did Beth Ann’s slippery flesh taste of peaches or tangerines? He shook the images sneaking into his brain by plucking her britches from the floor and handing them to her.
She looked at them like they were foreign. “I asked Hux if we could make it an official relationship, like Rylah and Peter, or Cassie and Steven. I’d like nothing more than to walk hand in hand with you through the meadows, but he said no, on account of we reckon you get off on the sneaky parts of it.”
Donnie could drive his hand through the wood paneling, but for fear it might get stuck. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and smashed sleep from his eyeballs with the palms of his hands.
“You’re getting yourself all worked up,” Beth Ann murmured. “You ought to take your pills.”
Donnie moved a safe distance from her. “I’m not taking any more of those. They make me…I won’t swallow another one.”
“Then bring that over here so I can chill you out some.”
She’d already loosed his belt buckle, but still he wouldn’t go for it. He pushed her off him and collected himself.
“I’ve had it,” he declared. “I’ve had my fill of it.”
With that, he threw open the door of the trailer. He cut through the rows of green corn and the Miracles working them. He shielded his eyes both from the hot Texas sun and their faces—
“Good morning, Brother Donnie.”
“Isn’t the day glorious?”
“Praise Luther.”
“See you in Spirit Study later today, Brother Donnie?”
—and marched the entire distance to the Big House. He reached for the doorknob, but found himself instead accosted by two big boys in overalls.
“Hux Pariah is not to be disturbed,” said the fat one, a long-haired kid named Wayne. “Not without an appointment.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Donnie. His attempts to wrest himself free from the big boys remained futile. “I can see him whenever I like. Do you not know who I am?”
“We know who you are,” said the other, a goth kid named Steve. “Still, you must have an appointment.”
“You listen here—”
Donnie would not finish his protest, for he caught sight of the sidearm and holster hanging from the hip of one boy, then the other. Donnie looked to their faces and caught the same dead stare he’d seen in Summer’s eyes before she…
Donnie ceased to struggle. He hung limply in their arms until finally he’d been relinquished. He rubbed circulation back to his arms and squinted into the sun.
“If you won’t let me see Hux,” he said to the two boys, “then will you please take me to Summer?”
Steve and Wayne looked to each other and swapped wry grins. They chuckled at something, but otherwise made no sound.
“What’s so funny?” asked Donnie. “What’s happened to Summer?”
“Summer’s gone,” said Wayne.
“What do you mean, Summer’s gone?” Donnie asked.
Said Steve, “We don’t have room for traitors around here. You either live close to the Principles or you can bail.”
“The Thirteenth Principle is Loyalty,” said Wayne. “You can lie about a lot of things, but eventually an impure spirit will expose itself.”
Donnie shook the cobwebs from his head. Parts of a memory shouldered their way into the fog of his brain. He could remember one night with Summer at the door of his camper, breaking his liquor cache one by one, all save for the ever-winnowing bottle he held in his hands. How she screamed at him and shook him by the collar. How she told him he could little see what was going on before his own two eyes.
He could recall little more, yet still he felt the urgency in her message. Again, he tried for the door to the Big House, this time nearly twisting open the knob before he felt the vise-like grip of both boys tearing him from the door frame. Next he felt the hot air race past his face as they chucked him down the patio steps and into the sunbaked yard.
“We won’t tell you again,” Wayne said. “If I have to stomp good sense into you, you’ll obey the orders passed down from Hux Pariah.”
“Summer wouldn’t have quit the ranch,” Donnie said. “She would never have left these Miracles behind.”
“Turns out,” said Steve, “the only person Summer cared for was herself.”
“I’ve heard talk her real name wasn’t even Summer.”
“Hux said there was no end to the lies told by that girl.”
“Addition by subtraction. Miracle Ranch is better off without her.”
As Donnie rose unsteady to his feet, both boys replaced their hands on their holsters. Donnie waved them off.
“No need, boys,” he said, tired and resigned. “I can show myself back to my RV.”
“Best you sleep it off,” chuckled one of them.
“Have another drink,” snorted the other.
But the last thing on Donnie’s mind was another drink. No, he’d visited that well plenty times since his daddy died and he reckoned it best not to visit again. He looked at the land around him and remembered not for the first time it had been built on Twelve solid Principles, ones his father had lived and died by. The first of those Principles, Donnie remembered, was admitting you were powerless.
“To hell with the Principles,” Donnie muttered beneath his breath. “It’s up to me to save Miracle Ranch.”
WHEN DONNIE finally found Rylah in the old work shed, he nearly didn’t recognize her. She’d long shed the bulky attire for a bikini top and shorts cut from the denim of her overalls. Where once her skin had been pale, she’d bronzed. Her long black hair had somehow tinted darker, yet nowhere near as dark as the coals of her eyes. In fact, Donnie thought perhaps it might not be her, as she’d yet to answer to her name.
When finally she turned to face him, she could not be more annoyed.
“Rylah Kincaid is the name of a dead girl,” she rebuked him. “Hux said I shall forever be known as Satin. You know why?”
Donnie rolled his eyes.
“Because of the way my skin feels to the touch.” She stuck a willowy arm below his nose. “Go on,” she said, “feel it.”
“Whatever your name is,” Donnie said, already out of breath, “we need to get the hell out of here. There’s no time to explain, but the longer we stay here—”
“Brother Donnie,” said Satin, “are you drinking this early in the day?” She clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. “There’s never a day goes by when I don’t thank Luther for freeing me from my chains and I only hope that—”
She stopped sudden. She looked to a point on the far side of the work shed, past the rusty tools, past the dusty work benches. Donnie turned, but found nothing by which could hold anyone’s attention.
“Are you—?”
Satin said to no one, “You are right.”
“Who is right?” asked Donnie.
“It is not for me to understand.”
Donnie looked this way, then that. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
Satin turned again to look him in the eye. “You were saying?”
Donnie launched into it. It felt good, at last, to confide in someone. He told her how he had sat with his mother until finally she died. He recounted the tale of how he’d searched high and low the streets of Dallas until he’d found Barney Malone, preaching straight-edge on street corners. He talked of how he’d helped start Miracle Ranch and all the things they’d done to lure the Miracles.
And when it came time, he told her of what fate awaited his father, and how he’d never be found at the bottom of the old rock quarry. How Hux wasn’t Hux, but rather a grifter named Jack Jordan, and somehow Summer Halifax had thrown in with him. Summer, who up and disappeared one day under the shadiest of circumstances, and now some of the Miracles carried guns and, if they knew what was good for them, they’d hightail it out of there before something dreadful happened.
Satin’s eyes sparkled. She licked her lips and tucked herself into him somewhat close.
“And you’re going to rescue me, Donnie?” she asked with a coo.
“Of course,” he said. “I have failed too many people around me. I couldn’t live with myself if I failed you girls as well.”
“What ever will you do?”
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said. “I’m going to get you all out of here.”
Satin said nothing. With a smile like that, she didn’t need to.
“I want you to gather up as many Miracles as you can,” he said. “Meet me tonight after evening Spirit Study, after sundown.”
“Where?”
“By the doglegged curve in the road on the far side of the ranch,” Donnie said.
“What do I tell the other girls?”
Donnie shrugged. “I’m afraid we can tell them nothing. Who knows how bad Hux has them brainwashed. Instead, just tell them it’s part of a new Principle.”
Again, Satin’s head turned to the far wall of the work shed. She listened a bit to the wind, then nodded her head.
“I’ll do whatever you say,” she murmured.
“Perfect. I’ll see you at sundown.” Donnie clapped her on the back, then bustled out of the shed with only two things on his mind: one, he hoped the others would be near as easy to convince as Rylah had been, and two, how her bare skin felt leagues more sinful than satin.
They are out there.
Hux Pariah stood on the porch of the Big House and scanned the steadily purpling horizon. Although he saw no clouds of dust from approaching vehicles, nor telltale red lasers from the scopes of sniper rifles, he knew it deep down in his bones. It was the first thought when he woke in the mornings and his final prayer before he closed his eyes at night. It danced so often through his head that he no longer needed to say the words out loud in order to hear them.
No, he didn’t.
They are out there.
No matter how many fences he ordered built, or torches he commanded to be lit. No matter how many men he had on hand to load their guns with powder or stand sentry at his doorway. He jerked with every rustle from the brush. He ducked for cover at every whisper of wind. Not a day passed when Hux didn’t sick up a meal or two and, though he found his jawline awful striking as a result, there’d be no way to disguise the steady shaking of his hand.
“When will they attack?” he asked.
Any day now, Hux. Any day.
“I wish they’d do it and get it over with.”
That’s not true and you know it.
“I’m not scared,” said Hux. “I’m ready for them.”
Maybe you are, but are they?
Hux diverted his attention to his Miracles. About forty or so of them stood in the yard, each facing different areas which had been designated as weak points. Places where the fortifications could be exploited, or the defenses manipulated. Each of them had been given a weapon of some sort. Some carried a gun, while others brandished sticks and stones. They kept their heavy-lidded eyes pointed toward the various tree lines and dared not so much as blink, despite the hour growing long.
“Tomorrow, we should let them sleep in shifts,” said Hux. “They’ll be no use to me dog-tired like they are.”
They’ll be no use to you dead. Now is hardly the time to split your defenses.
“They’re likely to collapse from lack of sleep.”
If they collapse, then at least you will know the limits of their loyalty.
Hux nodded. “You’re right, Luther.”
I’m always right.
Hux surveyed the lot a final time, then stepped inside the Big House. He removed his sidearm from his shoulder holster and placed it on the kitchen counter. The one from his hip went to the kitchen table. Finally, he slipped the tiny Derringer from his ankle and handed it to the big boy named Boo who guarded the bottom of the stairs.
“Are they awake?” Hux asked him.
Boo answered, “They ain’t made any noise for the past half hour, but I reckon they’re still awake.”
Hux nodded wearily, then ascended the stairs.
Some time ago, Hux relocated the dry goods storage locker to the top floor of the Big House. First, he had concerns of rats, roaches, or other vermin accessing their packaged foods. However, as time passed, he began to fear other Miracles sneaking past him, late at night, and poisoning their highly conditioned bodies with bowlfuls of pasta or cans of preserved meats. Rather than risk it, he’d replaced the wood door with one made of steel, and fitted it with a lock to which only he held the key.
Only recently had he come to realize that the room served not only to keep people from getting in, but could also be ideal when you wanted to keep them from getting out.
Hux stood at the door and rapped lightly with his knuckles.
“I’m going to open the door now,” he called inside. “Should either of you think it wise to bum-rush me, I only ask that you think upon what happened last time you tried it, and how none of us wants that to happen again.”
When he heard no further protest, Hux slipped his key into the door.
Inside, the dry goods closet contained enough sundries to feed a small platoon. Hux knew there’d come a day when outside forces might drive them within their own walls and he would not suffer for lack of his own preparation. The resulting siege could last days, weeks…months, even, and he would not be caught unawares. He’d stocked the camp with all the food and ammo he could lay an honest hand on, and then some. What had once been two bedrooms now housed shelf upon shelf of food that would last them through to the Tribulation.
It also housed Summer and Donnie, who stayed put on the floor as Hux opened the metal door. He clicked on the light as both of them covered their eyes with their hands and scurried like cockroaches for the shadows. He looked down upon them and shook his head.
“This is not what I wanted for us,” he said to the room. “Not by any means.”
Used to, Summer would plead and whine. She’d launch into a chorus of let me go and it doesn’t have to be like this. Most of the wind quit her sails when Hux tossed Donnie in to join her. Donnie was quicker to break. A couple turns with the boys downstairs and the old boy learned his lesson. He’d gone meek as a lamb as of late. He’d come to fear the gaze of Hux Pariah.
