Borderland (13 page)

"Maybe
we can get a loan from a bank," Tom Hamm, owner of the gas station and
garage suggested.

"No,"
Kent Vogel said. "That's invitin' trouble into your living room. You want
some bank officer snooping around out here to check up on the collateral? Hell
if I do. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I say nay to riskin' our
equipment for that pissant place. And the equipment's all we got for
collateral, really, 'cause I sure ain't puttin' up my store or my house."

"Well
what do you suggest?" Bauer said. "You're the one who got us into
this pot of dog doo. It was your idea to put the screws to Darwin."

Vogel
puffed out his chest and showed everyone the titties he'd developed over the
years. The men had taken to teasing him about pencil tests and such, so he
usually tried to keep his breasts hidden. Today he simply forgot. "He
brought the Callahan’s in. He told us it was only gonna be that Patrick fella
and then Myra and the boy showed up to make it three. He knew better. If we
hadn't stopped him, how many others would he a brought in? It was his fault. He
got what was comin' to him."

"And
we lost what he gave to us," Hank Nenndorf said with a contemptuous spit
into a paper cup he carried. "Any of you think about that yet? Anyone
beginning to feel the bite? I might have to disconnect my cable here in a few
weeks."

"Me
too," Tom Hamm lamented. "And that means I'm gonna miss that new show
comin' out next month."

"Yeah?"
Fred Bauer said. "Which one?"

Jinx was
slowly shaking his head. Doc Stade noticed first, and one by one the others
finally looked around. Jinx thought he had let them stew long enough. When they
lapsed into talk of cable television it meant their tiny overworked brains had
been tapped of viable solutions to the problem at hand and would rather
contemplate less exhausting matters.

"What
is it, Jinx?" Doc Stade finally asked. "You come up with something?
Hush, boys. Jinx has an idea for us."

Jinx
did, but it was risky. Risky because he hadn't had time to iron out all the
wrinkles and consider every possible repercussion. But it was all they had.

"I
think,” he said slowly, so slowly that each of the men leaned forward on their
stools, "I think I know of a way to keep the land without buyin' it. But
it would also mean keepin' Darwin's boy."

He held up
a hand at the immediate burst of mumbles and grumbles that followed his
statement. "He's one of us, boys. Don't forget that."

"No,
he ain't," Kent Vogel said. "He may have the name, but he ain't one
of us."

"He
could be," Jinx suggested. "He surely could be, if we do things
right. He's desperate about now. I told you how he was yesterday, all
bright-eyed and high-steppin' before I told him about the horses. And you all
seen him today when he come in. He's desperate as all get out. We could use
that, and we could use his experience…if you know what I mean."

Fred
Bauer straightened. "For what? Are you talkin' about using him for the
hunt?"

"Think
about it," Jinx said. "And speakin' of that, whose turn is it?"

"Mine,"
Ed Kisner said in his soft voice.

"When?"
Jinx asked.

"Soon.
Real soon. I have to take care of some things first. I filed the change of
address for Myra like you said, but the electric company wanted to know who out
there is usin' the juice if she’s gone. I guess I'll tell 'em it's Darwin's boy
and ask 'em to bill him from now on."

"That's
good," Jinx said. "That's real good, Ed. Are you gonna be all right
this time or do you need someone to go with you? Maybe you oughta take that boy
of yours."

Ed shook
his gray head. "Len's busy harvesting. I'll be fine."

"You
sure?" Jinx prodded.

"I'm
sure," Ed said.

"Good."
Jinx was satisfied. Ed wouldn't be all right, of course. He never had been. He
was too much of a pansy. But after the ragging Ed had taken last time, Jinx was
certain an extra effort would be made on the barber's part to make the hunt a
success.

"Wait
a minute," Kent Vogel said. "What about that friend of Kimmler's? We
ain't keepin' him too, are we?"

"No,"
Jinx said. "He won't be hangin' around too much longer, I don't think. And
maybe he'll take Myra and the boy with him when he goes. I'd still like to put
a brick to that silly damn Schwarz's head for doin' what he did to that car of
hers. Where in hell is he, anyway?"

"Still
on town cleanup," Ed Kisner answered.

"Good,"
Jinx grunted. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah. Myra. Let's just say I think
she'll set sail on the first boat out of here…if you know what I mean."

The men
looked at each other and chuckled.

"Before
long we’ll be shittin' in tall cotton again, boys," Jinx said. "We'll
cover the fall planting with what's left over from the stud money, and maybe
use what we get out of the brood mares to do some investin'."

"Investin'
in what?" Fred Bauer asked.

Jinx
smiled and shook his head again. He had to explain everything to them. Just
like a bunch of retards.

"In
what?" Bauer repeated.

"Vic
Kimmler," Jinx said. "If I'm right, he might just give us one hell of
a return on our investment."

"And
if you're wrong?" the tobacco-drooling Hank Nenndorf asked.

"Then
we got two orphaned little girls on our hands," Jinx said, his mud-colored
eyes illuminated by a fierce, shining light. "Two of the prettiest little
girls you ever seen."

CHAPTER 10

Christa
lay on the floor of the barn and counted the stalls again. There were ten on
each side. Cal said there was lots of hay somewhere above her, but she didn't
want to go and look. It was cool down on the floor. That's why the mother cat
kept her babies down here, she guessed. It had rained that morning, but only
for a few minutes. Uncle Nolan made everyone laugh by running outside in his
underwear and yelling something about the crops being saved. Christa didn't
know what he meant but since even Myra had covered her mouth and laughed she
thought she should, too.

She liked
Myra. Most of the grownup women she knew, even her teachers, tried to act like
a mother with her and Andy since their mother was dead. Myra didn't. She was
nice, but she didn't try to hug them or tell them what to do. Daddy was always
trying to thank her for doing things, but Christa could see that Myra didn't
want him to. She told him she needed to stay busy to keep her mind occupied.

Christa
watched them when they spoke to each other, to see if her daddy liked Myra, but
she didn't think he did. Not that way. Christa was glad. She liked Myra, but
she didn't want a new mother.

"Christa?"
Andy rolled over to look at her. "Why aren't they coming out?"

"I
don't know, Andy." Christa turned to follow Andy's gaze back to the pan of
goat's milk in front of the first stall. "I think they're still scared.”

"Scared
like we were when we first came here," Andy agreed. She looked at Christa.
"Are you still scared?"

Christa
ignored the question. "Maybe if we move back a little the kitties will
come out for the milk."

"How
far?" Andy asked.

"Just
a little bit. Come on." Christa pushed herself back on her arms until she
was almost to the barn entrance.

Andy
followed her example then she sat up. "Christa, where do you think she
comes from?"

"Who?"

"The
lady in the house. The one who looks like Mommy."

Christa
pretended not to hear. "Don't you wish we had fireworks last night?"

Andy
tugged at the damp tendrils on her neck before plopping onto her stomach once
more. "Yeah, but the ice cream was good. It's so hot today I feel wet all
over."

"Yeah,"
Christa was relieved that Andy had followed the change in subject. "Even
my hair feels wet."

"Yeah,"
Andy said. Then she looked seriously at her older sister. "You didn't
answer me, Christa. Where do you think she comes from? The lady with the long
wet hair."

Christa
looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Andy
frowned at her. Then her brow cleared. "Oh. You still haven't been
upstairs."

"So?"
Christa abruptly stood. "Come on. Let's find something else to do."

"But
what if the kitties come while we're gone?" Andy protested. "Cal said
they'll outwait us if we let them. He said that's what wild kitties do."

"Well,
let's go see what Cal's doing, then," Christa suggested. She stood, and
after heaving a reluctant sigh, Andy joined her. They left the barn and Andy
immediately squealed as a baseball kissed the air by her left cheek. It bounced
off the barn door and rolled to a stop beside a steel post in the corral fence.

"Jesus
Christ," Nolan said in annoyance. He was standing ten yards away from the
barn entrance. Cal was positioned ninety feet away from him, his back to the
house. "Cal, you throw like a goddamned girl. Follow through with the arm
instead of jerking it back. If you don't, the ball’ll be all over the place.
Andy, go get that ball."

"Can
we play?" she asked.

"No.
I've only got one glove and one excuse for a glove."

"Then
get your own ball," Andy said saucily.

Nolan
growled at her and showed his teeth in monster fashion. Andy screamed with
laughter at his advance and darted away from him to get the ball. Once she had
it, she stuck out her tongue at Nolan and flipped the ball to Cal.

"Andy,"
Christa said. "Let's go get our Barbie’s and play on the porch."

"Good
idea," Nolan said. Then: "Okay, Cal. Take your time and get a line on
my glove before you throw."

Cal
threw the ball hard, and Christa looked back to see Nolan curse as he caught
it. He took his hand out of the glove and looked at his bandage. "Bad
idea. We'll have to do this some other time, hot dog. You were fooling with me,
weren't you?"

Cal's
laugh was shaky, as if he too was a little surprised. "Maybe we should hit
the salvage yards before it gets too hot."

"Fine
with me," Nolan said.

Christa stopped
and turned around. "Can we go with you?"

Nolan
shook his head. "Not today. I thought you were going to play with your
dolls."

Christa
bit her bottom lip and Andy stuck hers out as the males strode past them on
their way to the house.

"Turds,"
Andy said under her breath. "Big turd and little turd. Aren't they,
Christa?"

"Daddy
told you not to call people that," Christa replied. But yes, she thought
they were both turds. At the moment. When they were apart from each other they
were both pretty nice. Cal, especially. Christa thought she might like to marry
him when she was old enough.

By the
time she and Andy had poked their way to the house, Cal and Nolan were in the
car and rolling down the drive.

"Too
hot already?" Myra asked as the girls trudged up the porch steps. She was
sitting in the swing with a bowl full of green beans between her legs.

"Just
boring," Andy said. She pointed to Myra's lap. "Can I try to do
one?"

Myra
handed her a bean and Christa turned toward the screen door. "I'll get our
Barbie’s."

"Tell
your dad the phone man is here," Myra said, and Christa looked around to
see a van cruising up the drive.

"Okay,
I'll tell him." She entered the house and found her father trying to fix a
leg on the ancient brown sofa. It had broken the night before when he sat down
too hard.

"Daddy,
the phone man is here."

He
glanced up. "You're kidding. Already? Maybe something will go right for a
change." He got to his feet and headed for the door, dusting his hands on
his cutoffs. Christa went to the screen and looked out as the phone man met her
father. When they disappeared around the side of the house she turned back
inside and went in search of the Barbie’s. In the hall she passed through what
felt like a cool spot. Like a freezer door had been opened in front of her. She
paused and backed up. Nothing. Warily, she glanced in the direction of the
Stairs. She hadn't told anyone about Andy's turtle, Georgie. And Andy was
right, Christa hadn't been upstairs yet. She wasn't anxious to meet her
sister's imaginary lady—if that's what it was.

Christa
went quickly to her room and found the dolls. As she passed through the hall
again she felt nothing but stifling heat. Reassured, she decided to stop in the
kitchen for a glass of the grape Kool-Aid Myra had made for them yesterday. She
put the dolls on the counter top and opened the refrigerator. After removing
the heavy plastic pitcher she took a glass from the dram over the sink and
filled it almost to the rim with the purple liquid. She took a long drink of
the cool sweetness before reaching for the pitcher again. When she lifted it
from the counter she felt the icy cold again, this time on her hand.