wet,” said Eli.
“Rain is fucking coming, what the fuck are you talking about, there isn’t a cloud in the sky!” Fred exclaimed “We are coming through here with a full mechanized lumber operation in a few weeks, you gotta be outa here, okay? If not, you know, my boss ain’t as nice as me. He’ll run right over your little paradise here and laugh while doing it.”
Eli nodded in acknowledgment of the statement but not in acceptance of its terms. Fred knew this was not a man that would just lie down. He had a feeling that this was the beginning of something and he was afraid of what Arch would do. Fred wasn’t a killer, but he knew Arch was, and had.
“Three weeks, okay old man? Oh, and I gotta tell the boss what you did to my friend and his leg, he ain’t gonna just let that one go.”
Eli just looked at Fred and was unwavering in his concentration on him. Fred looked down and yelled to his crew that it was time to leave. They walked past the bear trap and felt the urge to vomit rise again. A few revisited that bush and eventually they were all on their way back to the truck. They got in and began to drive back to the main office. Fred was driving and soon he noticed drops of rainfall on the windshield.
…
Anders woke in the middle of the night. He had been sweating profusely while experiencing the same nightmare he had most nights. Aponi woke with him, “what’s wrong sweetie? The same dream?”
Anders nodded, “The same dream. This time it was different somehow. It started the same, but the details were clearer. I think I remember one of the guys I served with in the war.”
“Who?” His wife asked.
Anders ran out to the living room. The morning light was just beginning to break through the living room window. The baby began to cry and his wife went to comfort her. Aponi came out of the spare bedroom with the baby and began to rock her back and forth. Anders grabbed the photograph of him and his comrades that sat on the mantle. He looked at it in the morning light. A look of wonderment and disbelief spread across his face. He pointed to a man in the photo, “I saw him.”
“Of course you did, you guys served together,” said Aponi.
“No, I mean I just saw him, he was released from the prison yesterday.”
XI
The drifter lay there for a few minutes to get his composure back. He looked at the ankle and it was already swollen to the size of a grapefruit. He got up on his one leg and limped himself back to his makeshift campsite. He was many miles away from help, but he had been injured worse before and resolved to continue his journey. As he collected his things and ate the last of his rations, he turned to where the wolf had attacked him. There was something about it that was familiar. He had seen the rage in the wolf’s eyes before. He grew up with that animalistic rage that did not understand its origins but was compelled to inflict it upon others. This was not simply the nature of the animal. There was something human in its cruelty. He was no stranger to this cruelty.
After this reflection with no conclusion, he was awakened by the pain in his ankle and was resolved to continue his journey. He began to push north, further into the Montana wilderness and further into isolation. Hours had passed and he began to think back upon how he had gotten to this point. There was never really a time that he could remember when he actually reflected upon his own life. He had resolved at an early age to simply exist. He glanced around the landscape and was reminded of all the beauty that dwelled in nature. The creek he walked along made the quietest of sounds but brought the most profound peace. The trees swayed under the wind, and the sun coming down over mountaintops brought rays of light in a multitude of colors. He was beginning to feel alarmed at his level of inflection and what pain may come of it. Not from the war so much as what led him to it. His father. What was it about that man that he
“Rain is fucking coming, what the fuck are you talking about, there isn’t a cloud in the sky!” Fred exclaimed “We are coming through here with a full mechanized lumber operation in a few weeks, you gotta be outa here, okay? If not, you know, my boss ain’t as nice as me. He’ll run right over your little paradise here and laugh while doing it.”
Eli nodded in acknowledgment of the statement but not in acceptance of its terms. Fred knew this was not a man that would just lie down. He had a feeling that this was the beginning of something and he was afraid of what Arch would do. Fred wasn’t a killer, but he knew Arch was, and had.
“Three weeks, okay old man? Oh, and I gotta tell the boss what you did to my friend and his leg, he ain’t gonna just let that one go.”
Eli just looked at Fred and was unwavering in his concentration on him. Fred looked down and yelled to his crew that it was time to leave. They walked past the bear trap and felt the urge to vomit rise again. A few revisited that bush and eventually they were all on their way back to the truck. They got in and began to drive back to the main office. Fred was driving and soon he noticed drops of rainfall on the windshield.
…
Anders woke in the middle of the night. He had been sweating profusely while experiencing the same nightmare he had most nights. Aponi woke with him, “what’s wrong sweetie? The same dream?”
Anders nodded, “The same dream. This time it was different somehow. It started the same, but the details were clearer. I think I remember one of the guys I served with in the war.”
“Who?” His wife asked.
Anders ran out to the living room. The morning light was just beginning to break through the living room window. The baby began to cry and his wife went to comfort her. Aponi came out of the spare bedroom with the baby and began to rock her back and forth. Anders grabbed the photograph of him and his comrades that sat on the mantle. He looked at it in the morning light. A look of wonderment and disbelief spread across his face. He pointed to a man in the photo, “I saw him.”
“Of course you did, you guys served together,” said Aponi.
“No, I mean I just saw him, he was released from the prison yesterday.”
XI
The drifter lay there for a few minutes to get his composure back. He looked at the ankle and it was already swollen to the size of a grapefruit. He got up on his one leg and limped himself back to his makeshift campsite. He was many miles away from help, but he had been injured worse before and resolved to continue his journey. As he collected his things and ate the last of his rations, he turned to where the wolf had attacked him. There was something about it that was familiar. He had seen the rage in the wolf’s eyes before. He grew up with that animalistic rage that did not understand its origins but was compelled to inflict it upon others. This was not simply the nature of the animal. There was something human in its cruelty. He was no stranger to this cruelty.
After this reflection with no conclusion, he was awakened by the pain in his ankle and was resolved to continue his journey. He began to push north, further into the Montana wilderness and further into isolation. Hours had passed and he began to think back upon how he had gotten to this point. There was never really a time that he could remember when he actually reflected upon his own life. He had resolved at an early age to simply exist. He glanced around the landscape and was reminded of all the beauty that dwelled in nature. The creek he walked along made the quietest of sounds but brought the most profound peace. The trees swayed under the wind, and the sun coming down over mountaintops brought rays of light in a multitude of colors. He was beginning to feel alarmed at his level of inflection and what pain may come of it. Not from the war so much as what led him to it. His father. What was it about that man that he
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