angry. “To tell the truth, things look bad. But I couldn’t tell them that,” she says with a gesture toward the camps. “I’m left with very little evidence, just some hearsay really, to convince the judge to grant me an injunction and the right to continue the suit and then subpoena all the guys who did the assessment for Fast.”
“You should see them in person. Appeal to them, threaten them. Now, before the hearing. From what I’ve seen, you can be very persuasive.” I admire her fierce, pretty features in the shifting light. Her single eye is a hot orange in the reflected glow of the embers.
“If I had the money, I’d do it. But this group of mine doesn’t exactly look wealthy, does it?”
No, they didn’t. They looked like a combination of broke-ass college students and octogenarians eking out a retirement on their social security checks. “What about other environmental groups? Can’t they help?”
She shakes her head and laughs again in that humorless way. “Most of the big ones fell for the scam, and now they’re too embarrassed to admit it. And the smaller ones have their own troubles.”
“I’ve seen bigger groups of protesters show up to complain about the paving of a trailhead parking lot.” By the tightening of her mouth I can tell I’ve said the wrong thing. The rum has loosened my tongue and made me say something she could only take as an affront.
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead she studies me in the firelight with her good eye. Her gaze is hard enough that it feels almost like one of her small hands is at my throat. “You look like a tough young man, Antonio.”
I shrug, but I’m pleased at the way my name sounds coming out of her mouth. “Call me Anton. Everyone but my parents does.”
That pleasure is lost when she asks, “Tell me, Anton, what the fuck do you care?”
I can only shrug again, taken aback and a little offended. “I like this place. I’ve heard my father talk about it since I was a kid. I don’t want to see it go down without a good fight.” Then my annoyance at her tone and words catches up to me. I remember my father’s advice about choosing fights. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to be much of a fight,” I comment, unable to resist the rum-fueled urge to provoke her a little further. To see what will happen.
“Screw you, kid.” She turns away from the dying fire and starts to walk in the direction the others had gone.
Her words hit my ears like a slap. It chases the alcohol right out of my blood. The realization that she is walking away with the belief that I’m nothing but an obnoxious jerk is almost painful. Things aren’t going at all like I’d hoped. I’m going to be left alone by a smoldering campfire, rejected by a woman who has some strange hold on me, and with nothing to look forward to but a tense confrontation with my brother and the destruction of the temple of my father’s youth.
I call after her, “Kim. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I want to learn more about this. I’m on your side.”
She turns quickly and walks back up to me. She stops only when her forehead is just a few inches from my chin. “I’m sick of hearing how hopeless it is. I’m sick of all my old friends telling me that. And I’m sick of guys like you, people who look and sound like they might be able to do something, chickening out. If it’s not much of a fight, it’s because everyone’s too afraid of this guy to fight. Everyone wants to just roll over for him. Let me tell you, Anton, I’m not going to do that. And I’m not going to listen to any defeatist bullshit.”
A little alcohol sneaks back into my voice as I try to lighten her mood. “Hey, you saw my dog. We’ll just turn him loose the next time Fast’s around.”
But it doesn’t work. She snorts and starts to turn away again.
“Cal and his crowd don’t seem too afraid,” I say, trying a more serious tack. “What about them?”
“That’s
“You should see them in person. Appeal to them, threaten them. Now, before the hearing. From what I’ve seen, you can be very persuasive.” I admire her fierce, pretty features in the shifting light. Her single eye is a hot orange in the reflected glow of the embers.
“If I had the money, I’d do it. But this group of mine doesn’t exactly look wealthy, does it?”
No, they didn’t. They looked like a combination of broke-ass college students and octogenarians eking out a retirement on their social security checks. “What about other environmental groups? Can’t they help?”
She shakes her head and laughs again in that humorless way. “Most of the big ones fell for the scam, and now they’re too embarrassed to admit it. And the smaller ones have their own troubles.”
“I’ve seen bigger groups of protesters show up to complain about the paving of a trailhead parking lot.” By the tightening of her mouth I can tell I’ve said the wrong thing. The rum has loosened my tongue and made me say something she could only take as an affront.
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead she studies me in the firelight with her good eye. Her gaze is hard enough that it feels almost like one of her small hands is at my throat. “You look like a tough young man, Antonio.”
I shrug, but I’m pleased at the way my name sounds coming out of her mouth. “Call me Anton. Everyone but my parents does.”
That pleasure is lost when she asks, “Tell me, Anton, what the fuck do you care?”
I can only shrug again, taken aback and a little offended. “I like this place. I’ve heard my father talk about it since I was a kid. I don’t want to see it go down without a good fight.” Then my annoyance at her tone and words catches up to me. I remember my father’s advice about choosing fights. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to be much of a fight,” I comment, unable to resist the rum-fueled urge to provoke her a little further. To see what will happen.
“Screw you, kid.” She turns away from the dying fire and starts to walk in the direction the others had gone.
Her words hit my ears like a slap. It chases the alcohol right out of my blood. The realization that she is walking away with the belief that I’m nothing but an obnoxious jerk is almost painful. Things aren’t going at all like I’d hoped. I’m going to be left alone by a smoldering campfire, rejected by a woman who has some strange hold on me, and with nothing to look forward to but a tense confrontation with my brother and the destruction of the temple of my father’s youth.
I call after her, “Kim. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I want to learn more about this. I’m on your side.”
She turns quickly and walks back up to me. She stops only when her forehead is just a few inches from my chin. “I’m sick of hearing how hopeless it is. I’m sick of all my old friends telling me that. And I’m sick of guys like you, people who look and sound like they might be able to do something, chickening out. If it’s not much of a fight, it’s because everyone’s too afraid of this guy to fight. Everyone wants to just roll over for him. Let me tell you, Anton, I’m not going to do that. And I’m not going to listen to any defeatist bullshit.”
A little alcohol sneaks back into my voice as I try to lighten her mood. “Hey, you saw my dog. We’ll just turn him loose the next time Fast’s around.”
But it doesn’t work. She snorts and starts to turn away again.
“Cal and his crowd don’t seem too afraid,” I say, trying a more serious tack. “What about them?”
“That’s
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