Chapter 19: Distractions

Year: 1892

Month: May

Age: 16 years

"Does I hafta come t' dis meetin', Pa?"

"A co'se ya hafta come! I'se de president o' de Foul-Fellows Club 'n' as de president's daughter, dat means dat you hafta come as well!"

"You ain't de president. Ya jest 'appened t' win de last fight o'er it."

Br'er Fox turned to glare at Farryn, who was walking with her arms crossed and giving him a glare. For a few weeks, the Foul-Fellows Club had been planning a heist on the bank, something he had been trying to get them to do for years now. There was always some excuse to prevent them from doing so;'Dere's gunna be too many critters 'round', 'E'ery'un gunna know it's us', or 'Dere's gotta be some'un watchin' it.' Reasonable, but they were small issues that could easily be taken care of with the right plan. And that was exactly what was going to happen tonight.

They needed someone to keep watch and if anyone came near, especially that no-good sheriff, then the lookout would give them a signal to alert them. And that was where she came into play. She was going to be their lookout. Despite being his daughter and having a reputation as a trouble-maker as a child, she would draw less suspicion than any of the boys. And she was still somewhat good at her shot, even though she hadn't really used her slingshot in a few years. Most folks didn't take too kindly to being hit with a rock or mud ball so, if need be, she could use it as a distraction should things start to go wrong.

She objected to it and was still trying to get out of it. The boys, she said, were the ones who wanted to be in the club, not her. They should help instead of her. Plus, she had plans to go to a 'magic show' or some nonsense like that. It was something different, as nothing exciting ever happened around here anyways. He didn't believe in any of that stuff, telling her that 'only foo's believe in magic'. She didn't care if he thought she was a fool; she was asked to go and thought it would be fun.

She had been asked by her 'friend' Sam to go. She said it wasn't a 'date'; they were just friends. Granted, it wasn't the first time they did something as 'friends'. They had had picnics, gone to another 'moving-picture' screening, and had even gone fishing. However, all of those times, her other friends were going. When he asked her if they were all going again, she responded no, that it was just going to be them two.

Oh, hell no was he letting that happen.

Thus, when it was decided that they needed a look-out, he kept insisting on her. It was the only way he could prevent this date from happening. The others, of course, didn't think she would be a good look-out; she never really cared to help them out before. Why would she suddenly help them now? Simple. Because he said so and she still had to listen to him.

This meeting wasn't really a meeting per se; it was more of a gathering to ensure that everyone was still on board for the heist and to go over the plans once more before they took action. They had planned to start after it got dark. Easier to hide under the cover of darkness. Plus, that 'magic' show was going to start after the sun went down. Most-if not all-of the townsfolk would go to it, giving them the perfect opportunity to rob the bank with fewer critters around.

"Ain't gunna be dat bad. All ya gotta do is stand watch. 'N' wid e'eryone at dat dumb show, it gunna be easy!"

"A show I'se 'pposed t' be at" she muttered.

"No, ya ain't cause you not a foo'."

"He gunna be 'spectin' me 'n' I ain't gunna show!"

His hands clenched slightly at her mentioning him. "Shouldn' been 'spectin' ya anyhow" he mumbled under his breath.

"Dat hain't ver' nice, Pa" she said with another glare forming, having heard him. "He awful nice 'n' de least ah could do is tell 'im."

"Ain't no time fo' dat now. We'se already late 'cause a you" he said, scowling at her. Up until recently, she never really cared for her outward appearance. She could get ready in less than five minutes in the morning. As a kid, she would show up covered in mud, or occasionally, blood from a fight and not care about it being in her fur or on her clothes. She was usually proud of it, saying that she wasn't afraid of a little dirt. Towards the end of last year, he noticed that she would spend more time in her room getting ready, taking at least thirty minutes most days. And the littlest speck of dirt anywhere on her would cause her to desperately wipe at it so she was spotless. He didn't understand why the sudden change at first, until he noticed it only started after last years' dance. She was trying to look nice for her so-called friend.

"Well, if'n ya woulda said sumthin' earlier, I coulda been ready. I was 'spectin' on goin' t' de show 'n' –"

"Quit wid de attitude or ya kin 'spect t' be 'ome fer a week."

She mumbled something under her breath that he didn't quite catch but he had a pretty good idea what it was. They finally made it to the clubhouse, the last to arrive as usual.

"Well, look who finally arrived!" The buzzard called out upon them entering the door.

"T'weren't mah fault. Someun' decided t' take fo'eva t' git ready" he said.

As what normally happened, they just had to heckle him.

"What, ya gotta git all purty fer a heist?"

"Uh…ya sho' don'-don' look any dif'rent den usual."

"I think he look worse achually."

He heard her snicker and shot her a look before turning back to the others, still glaring.

"T'weren't me, ya wise-guys. Was our look-out" he said irritably, gesturing to Farryn.

"Dats cause I'se 'pposed t' go t' de show wid someun'" she muttered before crossing her arms again.

"I tol' ya dat you ain' goin'!" he snapped at her.

"Ah, a date now huh? We startin' t' git t' dat age is we?" Br'er Weasel said with a slight smirk.

"Hain't a date. We jest friends." She responded glaring at the weasel now.

"Sho' ya are kid. You gunna stress yo' daddy out 'nough t' send 'im t' an early grave."

"I ain't stressed!" Br'er Fox shouted at him.

"Right. Dat's why you been so irritiable lately, mo' den usual."

He simply glared at him. He was stressed, but he couldn't admit that to these smart alecks. Not unless he wanted to be the laughing stock of the group again.

"We eva gunna meet yer future son-in-law, Fox? Mebbe he could be part o' de club" Zeke said with a somewhat serious tone.

"No you ain't, cause I ain't gunna 'ave a son-in-law."

"Pa!"

"Well, ah ain't! I done tol' ya dat already!"

"You'se bein' embarrasin'!"

"Yeah, Br'er Fox, you'se embarrasin' yo' daughter," Br'er Buzzard said mockingly, not bothering to hide his laughter.

"Neva' thought dat he be all possessive o' his young'un. Ain't he de one dat didn' want no chillun?"

"ENOUGH! Is we gunna do dis or no? We ain't got all night!" He shouted loud enough to be heard over their hysterics.

"A'ight, a'ight. Ya gotta point. We'se betta go o'er dis 'gin 'fore we start." The weasel said as the other members made their way to the table, trying to stifle their laughs. He followed them with his narrowed eyes and watched as she walked past, giving him a rather intense glare as she did so. It was hard to see under her fur, but he could see her face flushed with embarrassment. Good. If she was going to humiliate him in front of the others than she can be embarrassed by something he said. Although, he wasn't exactly sure WHAT was so embarrassing. He was speaking the truth. Not his fault she didn't like it.

He made his way to the table and sat in the last empty chair, noticing that she was leaning against the back wall, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"A'ight fellas –'n' gals –lets go o'er dis once mo' 'fore we git goin'," Br'er Weasel said, standing up from his chair. "We'se gunna cova' our feets wid some leaves, so as not t' leave any feetprints 'hind. Br'er Fox is gunna git us in dere wid his keys."

At this, Br'er Fox brought out a ring of keys from his pocket and held it in the air for all to see. He'd been looting and stealing from others for a long enough time that he now had a collection of keys to various locks. Most of them he was able to steal off the owners, while others he had to make in order to bust a lock. He had yet to run into a lock that he couldn't bust open.

"Den, once we in dere, we gunna use dese 'ere gunny sacks t' hold all de loot. De kid is gunna stay 'round de outside t' keep an eye on thangs. Should sumthan' go wrong out dere, she gunna whistle t' alert us. But, we'se gotta be quiet 'n' do it real quick. No tellin' when someun' will come on by 'n' git 'spicious. We clear?"

There was a simultaneous round of affirmations from the group, whereas Farryn simply rolled her eyes and shook her head. As they stood up from the table, he walked over to her, grabbing her arm, and whispering harshly in her ear.

"You betta' not mess dis up, ya hear? If you leave yo' spot, you gunna be grounded fer de rest o' de year." She didn't say anything, instead shrugging his arm off and walking out ahead of the group.

He hoped that, for once in her life, she would actually listen to him and mess it up. Or he was going to be in for a world of hurt otherwise.

~XXXX~

Dat damn kid is neva' gunna be 'llowed t' leave de cave eva' agin.

Br'er Fox was sitting on the bench that was attached to the wall of the cell that all the club members were currently staying in. They, once again, had their plans foiled by the town sheriff.

Everything started out perfect; they had managed to not leave any footprints and were able to quietly sneak into the bank. The safe where all the money was housed was able to be easily picked and as soon as the door slowly opened, they all dived in, greedily grabbing what they could put in their gunny sacks. They had just about finished cleaning out the safe, when the muskrat just so happened to be strolling past and, curious as to why the bank door was open so late, busted them as they were leaving. Their so-called 'look-out' was nowhere to be seen. The walk to the jail had been quiet, as no one dared talk with a loaded musket to their back. But as soon as the cell door had been locked did the ridicule and insults start. And unlike the groups' usual bickering, where everyone blamed each one for something or another, they were all able to pin the blame on one critter.

"Some look-out we 'ad."

"Couldn't e'en last five minutes."

"You said dat she'd lissen t' ya. What 'appened t' dat?"

"She pro'lly de one dat tol' de sheriff."

"Mah son coulda been a betta' look-out! 'N' he hangs out wid dose pigs!"

"Least she ain't a goody-two shoes like yer son," he said turning to scowl at the wolf.

"What's dat sayin'? De apple don' fall far frum de tree or sumthin?"

"Apples? Duh, I'se like t' 'ave some apples," Br'er Bear said, drooling.

"Not real apples, ya buffoon! It a figger o' speech or sumthin'!"

"What are ya gittin' at, Weasel," Br'er Fox asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Well, de only reason yo' daughter e'en exists is cause you got distracted by a purty face. She pro'lly got distracted by dat lil' date o' hers 'n' went wid 'im."

He continued to glare at the weasel and couldn't help but think that maybe he was right, although he wouldn't admit it in front of them. The only real reason she was protesting being their look-out was because she so desperately wanted to go to that dumb show. For whatever reason, going to see 'magic' with her 'friend' was much more important than helping them out. She was going to be in so much trouble when he got out of there.

His ears perked when he heard some laughter coming from outside. He'd recognize that laughter anywhere and he quickly stuck his head out of the barred window. Sure enough, there was Farryn, walking with that boy, Sam, laughing about who knows what. He couldn't help but let out a low, frustrated growl. They must've heard it, as both of them looked over in his direction.

"Git. O'er. 'ere. Right. NOW." He said rather loudly through gritted teeth. She shrunk back slightly, but came over to the window.

"Um..H-Howdy, Pa! Uh..ah see dat you'se a lil' busy so I'se-"

"Grounded. Fo' a long time. Once I git outta 'ere."

"Oh, uh, well since ya still in dere den I guess-"

"I ain't done yet. 'N' ya betta' lissen closely t' dis. I don' want you anywhere near dat boy frum now on, ya unnerstand? I'se puttin' an end t' dis lil' 'friendship'.

"Pa, dat ain't fair! He ain't done nuthin' wrong! 'N' e'eryone else –"

"I don' care 'bout nobody else! Dey ain't my daughter! You is! 'N' if ya think dat jest cause –"

"Rynnie, are you coming? It's getting late."

Rynnie? Did he just call her Rynnie? The nickname he came up with for her all those years ago? The name that only he could use? The name she said she didn't want to be called anymore?

"What did he jest call you" he hissed at her.

"R-Rynnie", she said while biting her lip, a small habit she always had but only just recently started doing it more often.

"You tol' me dat ya didn' wanna be called dat no mo'."

"I knows, but he thought dat is was kinda cute so's –"

"Rynnie?" Sam asked again, looking in their direction with a curious expression. She looked back at him before turning to face her father again.

"Sorry, Pa" she said as she started walking back towards him. "I'll see ya when you gits out."

"Farryn, don' you walk away frum me! I ain't done 'ere!" he yelled after her as she continued to walk towards her friend. "Ya here me? You'se gunna be in e'en mo' trouble if'n you don' come back 'ere dis minute!" She had made it back to him and they started walking in the direction they were originally headed. He could've sworn he heard her say 'sorry 'bout dat.'

Letting out another frustrated growl, he pulled his head back through the window, hitting it on one of the bars as he did so. He cursed loudly and started rubbing his head when his cellmates decided to speak up again.

"Oh yeah. She a good lissener a'ight."

"Jest shut up won't ya?" he snapped at them.

He crossed his arms and sat on the bench again, staring angrily at the wall across from him. After his outburst, the others decided it was best to just let him be, something he was glad about. He didn't know what was going on, why she was being more defiant than she ever was before. His groundings didn't seem to be doing jack. She just kept ignoring him and getting into the same trouble. She was so desperate to be with her new friend and he just couldn't stand it. He was going to have to try much harder if he wanted to prevent losing her.

And right now, he was running out of ideas of how to do so.