Peering out of the tiny window of Lodz's trailer, Samson noted absently that dawn was breaking. Normally, everyone would be up and about at this time of morning, anxious to get things done before the sweltering heat made even the easiest of tasks a strenuous chore. But this morning the camp was still basking in sleep. No doubt the result of having to travel by the cover of night. They had finally made their way to Lawrenceville and had made camp without incident. Even Lila, with all her words of conspiracy, had been silent. In the long, night drenched travel, they had come together again as a family. A family with problems to be sure, but still a family.
Samson felt his chest tighten as the pride and love he felt for his people filled his tiny body. He glanced over at his sullen companion. Ben was slumped in the chair, a curious mixture of relief and shame aging his boyish features. The boy hadn't said but two words the whole way. Instead, the silence had been replaced by Ben's endless flipping of a bottle cap.
"You wanna tell me what's got you looking like a whore in church?"
The incessant clicking of the bottle cap against the table ceased as Ben barely looked up. "Ain't got nothing to say."
"Well, you'd better think of somethin' real quick cause there's gonna be a whole lotta people wantin' to know what your plan is."
"Ain't got no plan 'cept to go back and get Sophie. Never shoulda left her behind."
Samson turned to look out the window and sighed. "Sophie's gonna be just fine. The girl knows how to take care of herself. What you need to be worrying yourself about is that Preacher."
The clicking of the bottle cap resumed and for a moment Samson was silent. It was true what the boy said about Sophie. They had done her a grave wrong leaving like they had but it couldn't be helped. Samson reckoned he didn't know much but what he did know was that if anyone could make it home it was their Sophie. "Shit!" Samson cursed silently at himself. It was bad enough one of them was wasting time feeling sorry for his self. Now here he was doing the same damn thing. Well not anymore. Glancing over at Ben's brooding face, Samson decided to try a new tactic.
"C'mon boy buck up, bait like this don't just fall into your lap everyday."
Ben looked up confused, letting the bottle cap again go silent. "What bait? You talkin' about that women? Hell, she ain't no bait. Only reason I brought her back was because a man of God asked me…a real man of God."
"No bait?" Samson made a noise halfway between a grunt and an exasperated groan. "Boy you got something the Preacher wants and wants bad I'm guessing. I seen 'em together. No way that Preacher is gonna let you just waltz off with his sister."
"Doubt he even knows we got her."
"I'm telling ya boy, she's the way you're gonna beat him. Trust me."
Ben peered over at Samson startled. "That's what the real preacher said before he went." Ben replaced the bottle cap on its bone dry companion. "I don't know. You ain't seen it. They was gutted. Preacher done that. Why should he care if she's alive when he's the one that killed her?" While he said the words forcefully enough, Samson could hear the doubt begin to creep into Ben's voice.
Ben sat up and began to run his hands up and down his thighs all the while staring at the floor. Samson knew he was thinking on what he'd said and was relieved when Ben asked more hopeful than not "You really think we got somethin'?"
"I sure do! Now what we gotta do is figure out……where the hell you think you runnin' too?" Samson moved quickly to guard the door from Ben's swift moving frame.
"I can't just be sittin' here when that Preacher still got a hold of Sophie. I say we make a trade. If'en what you say is true, he gets what he wants and we get what we want. After that, I'm done with the whole damn thing."
"Boy you addled? You ain't never gonna be done cause you got the gift. Now I'm damn sorry it's you who got it but that's the way it is. Ain't no use wishin' for somethin' that ain't never gonna happen. We can't go havin' you run off half baked."
Ben took a step forward deciding to use his height to intimidate the small man. But one look into Samson's steely eyes and Ben felt as though he'd been cut down knee high to a grasshopper. He skulked back to his chair as Samson pulled up another chair to sit directly in front of him. "Okay boy, I'm running things from here on out. And here's what we're gonna do."
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The first light of dawn break fell upon Iris Crowe and her body responded as it always did at this time of day- she woke up. The stream of light that poured in through the window was overtaken by the darkness that engulfed the trailer. She had the oddest sensation of being home and yet, a quick sweep of the room with her eyes revealed a place Iris had never before seen. She was surprised to find that her first reaction was not to figure out where she was and how she got there but instead to stay in her current state of repose. This place felt right and for now that was enough.
Heavy shrouds were draped around the bed. Whether their intent was to keep someone in or to keep someone out she did not know. Iris turned her head to the left to try and make out some of the contents of the tiny room. She groaned out loud as her stiff muscles resisted this simple movement. Her eyes having adjusted to the curious blend of light and dark, Iris struggled to sit up by leaning on her elbows. A wave of nausea overtook her and convinced her to lie back down. She started to call out for Justin but something stopped her. It was the chiming of a small clock that sat upon the dresser just outside of the shroud. Its tone was oddly familiar as was the feel of wetness upon her brow as if….oh God! The events of the prior night came flooding back into her mind with startling clarity. She closed her eyes as tears escaped from their corners. Everything had been lost…Justin, Norman, the ministry. Yes, she'd known Justin was becoming monomaniacal with each passing day but she'd underestimated his cruelty. For someone so intimately aware of his penchant for callousness, Iris recognized that it should have been she who had predicted last night's events. But her love for Justin had overshadowed all reason just as it always had and now Norman was paying the price. She said a silent prayer to anyone who was still listening that Norman had somehow found a way to escape Justin. Yet, even as the half mumbled words escaped her lips she knew deep within that such an escape was unlikely. Eyeing the room for some clue as to where she was, Iris smiled involuntarily as she realized that for the first time in her life she was more concerned about her circumstances than she was Justin's. Just then her eyes fell upon a small picture frame that sat upon a weathered trunk. She flung herself from the bed crossing the room in two swift steps. Wiping the dust that coated the glass, Iris peered down at a face from long ago. "It can't be," she whispered.
Lila dropped the tray of day old hash down upon the table with a thud. Getting no reaction from her three half-asleep eating companions, she let out a deliberate sigh as she sat down upon the splinter-ridden boards. She picked up her fork and promptly put it back down deciding to take the bull by the horns. "Don't it bother nobody else? Here we barely got enough food for us and now thanks to Samson's new lackey we got another mouth to feed. What's her story anyhow?"
Hunched over her coffee, Rita Sue made no move to answer so Libby took it upon herself to set Lila right. "Alls I know is that Ben helped Jonesey and that's all I gotta know. So why don't you just mind your own business for once. Libby pushed her tray forward and stood up. "Really Lila, just drop it."
"My, my, my aren't we the Queen. You'd do best to remember what you are. No band of cheap gold gonna change that." Lila watched as Libby marched off toward that tent she shared with Jonesey before turning her attention back to Rita Sue and Stumpy. "That little girl of yours is getting' a mighty big head."
"It won't last. These things never do." Rita Sue looked up at Lila. "You make a good point though. What I wanna know is if this woman thinks she's gonna run the show. I heard Samson telling Jonesey that this woman is Management's kid. Beat that."
"No!"
"Yes and that ain't the only thing." Rita Sue paused to take a sip of her lukewarm coffee enjoying tormenting Lila who waited anxiously for the rest of the news. "I heard that she might not be all that happy to be here instead of with that loon brother of hers."
"Well now I suspect things are gonna get mighty interesting around here." Lila started to dig into her hash with renewed gusto when she was stopped by Rita Sue placing a hand over hers. "Seriously Lila, I'm scared. We got no money anymore thanks to Felix here and now we got some church do-gooder around here."
"You don't really think she's gonna take an interest in this place do ya?" Lila took her free hand and covered it over Rita Sue's. "Hell, she'll never last. Just wait till she sees the shittin' pot." That image alone was enough to send Lila into a laughing fit.
Removing her hand from Lila's, Rita Sue grunted "It ain't funny Lila. Somehow I can't see a proper church lady approving of the cooch." Rita Sue tossed what was left of her coffee onto the ground and watched as the parched earth drank it up greedily. She turned to Stumpy and regarded him for a moment. Like always, he sat with his left elbow resting on the table with his hand propping up his head. The right hand was shoveling food into his mouth and his eyes were closed. The overall image reminded Rita Sue of a marionette doll that had lost its strings. "I don't suppose you got nothin' to add?"
Stumpy opened one eye to regard the two women who were looking at him like an annoying mosquito. "I think," he said letting the words draw out "that there ain't nothing worse than two gossiping females." With that, Stumpy closed his eye and resumed eating.
"Honestly Felix, I don't know why I bother." Rita Sue picked up her coffee mug and left the table but not before casting one more disapproving glance in Stumpy's direction. Having lost her meal companion, Lila spent the rest of her breakfast in silence.
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By midmorning, Iris had ransacked the tiny trailer searching for what she had no idea. Clutching the photograph of her mother in one hand, Iris sat down resignedly on the bed. The only sound in the trailer was that of well worn coils as she shifted her weight in a bout of nervous energy. She decided it was in her best interest to at least attempt to figure out what had happened last night. No matter how hard she tried, all she could remember was her fear as she watched Justin threaten Norman. Then everything became muddled. Iris thought she remembered the sound of screaming but the echoes were so far removed from her mind that she couldn't be sure she wasn't just imagining them.
Her reflections were cut by a sharp knock at the door. For a moment, Iris dared not speak. It was clear the person on the other side of the door was not Justin. Knocking had never been his way. Before she could decide on her next action, the door opened slowly. Iris watched nervously as the door opened and was surprised to see no one there. The subtle clearing of a throat forced her eyes downward and Iris inhaled sharply. She felt a new sense of anger build within her.
"You!"
"Beggin' your pardon ma'am but I think you and I had better have a talk." Samson stepped inside slowly not sure what he was dealing with. He regarded Iris for a moment before pulling up a seat in a silent invitation for her to join him. She stood near the bed with her arms folded across her chest defiantly and her lips pursed in annoyance.
"I think you had better tell me just what is going on here." Years of using her voice to keep Justin in line had enabled her to perfect a tone that was both threatening and demanding. If it worked on Justin, she had no doubt it would work on this man. So Iris was more than a little taken aback when Samson started to chuckle. "I'm sorry, I was not aware that I had said something funny."
"My apologies ma'am but I see it now is all."
"You see what exactly, Mr. Samson?"
Samson dropped his hat onto the table and leaned back into the chair. "I see Management. I see your father in ya." He smiled warmly at her enjoying this sudden connection. His smile faded as she turned quickly to look out the window. With her back toward him, Samson couldn't make out her expression.
"I don't believe you know my father."
"I reckon I knew him just about as well as anybody." Samson got up from his chair and walked over to stand behind Iris. "Knew him over 20 years I'd say."
Still facing the window, Iris replied "My father's name is Norman Balthus and I don't believe you know him" She turned to face Samson and looked down at him with eyes that openly defied challenge.
Putting his hands in his pockets, Samson averted his eyes from hers and let them linger on the stained rug under the table. Moments passed before he felt comfortable enough to look her in her eyes. "I know he's the one that raised you," Samson said quietly "but I'm a talkin' about your real daddy."
"My father was a bad man."
"Oh yeah, like your brother is a good man?"
The rage with which she spoken of her father ignited a flame of resentment within Samson. He had answered without thinking and now, seeing her flinch at the mention of her brother's name, felt guilty for it. The two of them stared at one another both acknowledging silently that they were at an impasse.
"I'm sorry Miss Iris but your father was a friend of mine."
Waving off his apology, Iris sat down on the bed and said simply "I want to go home."
Samson shook his head as he walked over and sat down next to her. "That ain't an option."
"It is the only acceptable option. I want to go home…now." She turned and looked him squarely in the eyes.
Samson licked his lips as he shook his head at her audacity. "What for?" Noting her confused look Samson continued. "You say you want to go home and I want to know what for? Hell, your brother left you deader than a stone and now yer itchin' to get back to him? Makes no sense."
Iris stared at Samson her irritated expression softened by a faint trembling of her lips. "My brother would never leave me."
"You remember what happened last night?" Her silence answered his question. "I can't give you no details. Wish I could. You're going to have to talk to Ben about what happened with your brother. All I know is you ain't leaving. Now you are more than welcome to come and go around this camp as you please but for now you'll be staying with us."
"My brother won't allow it."
"He ain't got a choice." Samson retrieved his hat and headed for the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and looked at Iris. "People around here is friendly once they come to know ya. If you need anything…" Samson gave her a nod and turned to leave.
Iris turned to the window and watched in stunned silence as Samson walked off. The nerve of that man telling her she wasn't allowed to leave! Iris scanned the outside for clues as to her whereabouts but only saw a dust ladden openness. It was if she had been plucked up and placed in the middle of nowhere.
A million questions raced through her mind. Where was Justin? Had he been harmed and what was this nonsense about him leaving her? Had he finally fulfilled his threat to leave her behind? Iris suspected the answers to these questions lie in the shadowy grayness of her mind. But what those answers were she couldn't say. This realization caused an icy shudder to run through Iris that was in stark contrast to the oppressive heat. For the first time in her life, Iris Crowe was alone.