Renewal 7 - When the Student Is Ready by Jf Perkins

left could not go far before he hit the valley that had become a lake. I didn’t worry about keeping an eye on him, which was good since Kirk gave him to me as my assignment. Kirk was tracking the man heading to the right. Luckily he started to angle towards the barn long before he slid out of our line of sight.
    Mom could hear the truck, and she was fighting the urge to turn around to watch. Her job was to look in the opposite direction, and it was clearly torturing her. My mom had become a face-the-danger person, and I was proud of that. I kept her apprised with hand signals to indicate the threats; one finger to the left, one finger to the right, and my entire hand slicing in the direction of the approaching pickup trucks.
    The man who had opened the gate, trotted along behind the truck, close enough for cover, but far enough to serve as an overwatch for the men still in the truck. I tried to see everything at once. My man, as he came close enough to see clearly, turned out to be the skinny boy from the morning. He was splitting his attention between the barn and the truck. The driver was no dummy. He used our own well house as cover for his men. He stopped the truck behind the shed, leaving the truck idling, so that his engine and cab was well protected, and only a couple of feet of the truck bed showed. The men in the back were ducking as low as possible. Otherwise, I’m sure Kirk would have been taking their heads off by now. His rifle muzzle was perched in a gap in the wall, clear to fire, but several inches inside. Arturo had taught us early that cover meant not sticking out a telltale gun barrel for the enemy to target.
    I couldn’t see Dad and Arturo without moving, and I was basically holding my breath, much less crawling around the platform. I assumed that they were ready to fire as well.  The intruders on the sides were advancing to the barn. If I didn’t have a whole truckload of bad guys in front of me, I would have been panicking over the guy on my side, who was about twenty feet short of disappearing around the corner of the barn.
    A tall, rangy man in a gray cowboy hat stepped around the well shed. He was unarmed, unless you count the revolver slung low on his right hip. The man was seriously gaunt, to the point of looking almost inhuman. His eyes were sunk way back in his head, and lost in the shadow of his hat brim. His men were arrayed behind him in the best cover formation they could manage. The man stepped forward like he was preparing to address the city council. He stopped about forty feet from the barn doors, and fingered the weathered rope we had strung among the buildings. He looked up, almost revealing his eyes and said, “Howdy, neighbors! Name’s Eugene Curfman. We ain’t lookin’ fer trouble.”
    Dad spoke up. “Looks like you came for trouble from here!”
    “Pays to be ready, these days. Who am I talkin’ to?” Eugene asked the barn.
    “David Carter. What can I do for you, Mr. Curfman?”
    “Well, we was just looking around the neighborhood, seeing who’s still about, and who might need some help... Like that, Ya know?”
    “Well, were doing just fine. You don’t need to worry about us, friend.” Dad said.
    “I’d prefer to see fer myself. How about you open up them barn doors, so we can come in and check on things.”
    “No, I don’t think I’m going to do that,” Dad replied. “I’d prefer if you and your men went back the way you came. Don’t worry about the gate. We’ll take care of it.”
    “I’d like to take your advice, friend,” Eugene said, “But, ya see... I ran out of cigarettes a while back and it makes me kinda touchy. You not inviting me and my boys in, well... You’re hurtin’ my feelings. Why’d you hurt old Eugene’s feelings?”
    “All right, Eugene. Here’s the thing. I don’t know you. I don’t trust you and your boys, pointing their rifles at me, and frankly, you’re just being rude. Bad manners piss me off.” Dad said. Kirk and I