Day 19-7

The group under the lead of Lieutenant Hughes and Colonel Wise leaves late in the afternoon. Since the released men are all in good shape, they shouldn't have much of a problem making it at least down to the main road before nightfall. From there it is another eight or nine miles into the little town of Paradise—a very fitting name by the way, it is beautiful—where the vehicles will be waiting to take them on to Fort Lewis. We get a whole bunch of friendly handshakes, and even more thank-yous from the guys as they ready to depart. Only Perry stands to himself, a grim expression on his face. I am not sure how far LT's methods of convincing someone of the 'truth' go, but I fear Perry might try to cause a problem later. Well, there is nothing I can do, except hope that LT's connections are really good enough to take care of the matter.

For now I have to think of the problem still on our hands. Seven Government Agents, who need to be escorted safely to the relay station, and from there into a maximum security lock-up. It seems we have the situation well under control, but it is going to be a long night.

Cut and I agree to take turns, relieving Sawyer on his guard, giving him a chance to get some food and rest. Micheals we don't have to worry about, because Jimmy is back to watching him. I don't think Chief ever slept at all during the last three days, but neither did I. Cut did though. Maybe I have him take the last watch, and try to doze a little.

We have made our bunks available to Lancaster, Roberts and Harless at their convenience. The tied-up agents are on the floor anyway, and I don't mind sleeping on the ground. Buck makes for a quite comfortable pillow if I need it—and if he decides to come back in sometime tonight. Guess he figures it's too crowded.

Following the thought, I get kind of a stuffy feeling myself and decide to go stretch out in the hammock for a while. The beer ran out this afternoon. We treated the released men to a long missed luxury, and the looks on their faces were worth more than anything.

I don't remain by myself for long. Chief makes himself comfortable on the large, flat rock beside me. Now there's quite a surprise! I can't help but give him a curious glance. Wonder what's got into him that he actually let Micheals out of his sight?

He doesn't acknowledge my presence in any way, just brings out his tobacco pouch and paper, starting to roll a cigarette. I watch, trying not to be too obvious about it, though this is certainly strange. Sure looks like he's got somethin' else on his mind.

Jimmy pitches the half-rolled cigarette along with the empty pouch into the fire I got going out here, since it is uncomfortably chilly. At his questioning look—Guess he knows I'm here after all—I toss him my last half pack of Doral Menthols, getting a squint in return. Apparently menthol ain't his kinda taste. Sorry, Chief, it's all I got.

He lights one nevertheless, then flips them back to me.

Thanks, Chase!...You're welcome, Chief! Gees, we really are into this conversation now, I think, grinning to myself.

We both smoke, while I get more and more curious. There's gotta be another reason for him to come out here, other than just wantin' to catch some fresh air. I get several glances like he is expecting me to say something. Ain't gonna happen, Chief. You wanna talk to me, you gotta start it yourself. But the suspense is sure killin' me. I am still thinking, and he catches me by surprise when he actually does start.

"Chase!" the usual opening.

"What, Jimmy?" I reply, unsure whether the unsteady light from the fire makes it possible for him to read my lips.

There is a long pause before he continues. Loosening the bear-claws from around his neck, he holds them over toward me. "You need this!" He sounds dead serious.

You need this? Not like before, you 'might' need this? What the...? I don't respond for quite a while since this caught me completely off guard.

"Chase, please!" He reaches over further, with somewhat of an urgent motion.

"Jimmy," I hesitate to take the necklace, "you mind telling me what this is all about?"

"I can't."

"Why not?" The question earns me the familiar "don't know" sign, making things even more confusing. "What do you want me to do with it?" I finally take the bear-claws from his hand.

"Keep it."

"What?" I almost fall out of the hammock, sitting up so fast. "You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"No."

"But, Jimmy," I shake my head in disbelieve, "you wouldn't even let me buy them off of you before."

"That was different."

"How? Why?"

Another "don't know" sign in reply, and now he has me completely baffled.

"Jimmy, I can't take these. I know how much they mean to you."

"You have to!" He sounds almost solemn now.

"But..."

"Chase," he cuts me off this time, "please!"

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Jimmy?" I inquire, equally serious now.

"Yes."

"Alright, but if you change your mind..."

"I won't. And Chase," he smiles faintly, sliding off the rock, "take good care of it."

"I will! Thanks, Chief, I..." No sense in saying anything else. He didn't even get that pathetic thank you, because he already turned and is on his way back to the cabin.

Gees! That really beats all now. I run the row of ten bear-claws through my fingers, causing the sterling silver fittings to sparkle in the firelight. I can't accept this. No way in the world, I can accept something like this. What in the hell did he mean, I need 'em? We're done here. We'll be goin' home tomorrow. I gotta talk to Cut about this. It don't make no kinda sense. I know how much that damn necklace means to him. Gees...

My thoughts are just going 'AWOL' on me, and I sit there, staring at the bear-claws in my hands. For how long? I have no idea, but it has to be quite a while since the fire is almost out by the time I get myself back together. I have to talk to Cut about this. Maybe he knows what the hell is going on. I fasten the bear-claws around my neck—At least for now—and roll out of the hammock.

#####

It is quiet inside the cabin, except for the snores from Harless and Roberts, stretched out on the cots. Lancaster is sitting at the table, playing cards with Cut, using beer can tabs for money.

Jimmy looks up for an instant when I walk in, giving me a solemn look, then goes back to staring at Micheals.

I step over to the table. "Sorry to interrupt. Cut, you got a minute?"

"What's up, Chase?" he inquires, glancing up from the cards in his hand. "See Jimmy really did give you them claws," he says matter-of-factly, then returns his attention to his 'hand' again.

"Wait a minute," I cast a quick look over at Chief, but he is watching Micheals, "you knew he was gonna do this?"

"Yup!" He shrugs nonchalantly and places his wager.

"Damn, Cut, I can't accept this."

"You better!" He regards me with a stern glare. "Look, Chase, you better just say thanks and leave it alone, unless you wanna insult him."

"Yeah, but..." I try to argue.

"Don't but around about it, Chase," he cuts me off . "Just don't even think about sayin' nothin', okay?"

"Well, I guess I ain't got a choice then, do I?" I answer, feeling real uncomfortable.

"Nope! Now leave it alone. Sit down and play a while, get your mind on somethin' else. Here... twenty bucks worth." He pushes a pile of tabs over to me.

"Man..." I finally grab a chair, yet with another glance over at Chief.

"Oh, put up your ante and quit thinkin' so much, Chase," Cut grumbles.

"Alright," I sigh, sitting down. "You mind, Sir?" I inquire toward Lancaster who hasn't said a word during the whole argument.

"Not at all," he grins with an inviting gesture

"What'd you do, Cut? Break all the tabs off the cans in the bin?" I try to get my mind on the game.

"Had to," he grins, shuffling our ten-year-old deck of cards. "Ain't like I brought my piggy-bank up here, you know. Tab's a quarter, we'll pay off later. Five card draw, nothin' wild. Now count 'em, and put up your ante so we'n get on with it."

"Thought you could use some sleep, Cut," I say, not bothering to count the tabs in front of me.

"Nah, I'm on a roll, Chase."

"You can say that again," Lancaster sighs. "Got about half of my paycheck by now."

Great! Take a General for all he's worth, in a Poker-game. "Gees, Cut," I laugh, "you just ain't got no kinda respect, do you?"

"Not when it comes to playin' cards, Chase. That's where the ranks don't count, just the straights," he answers dryly, dealing out five cards to each of us.

"Maybe I should've warned you about that, Sir," I grin at Lancaster. "When it comes to Poker, Cut loses any sense of military courtesy."

"Doesn't bother me, as long as it doesn't bother you, Chase," the General shrugs, and I nearly gasp when he calls me by my first name.

"Your bet, Hobert," Cut says casually, and now I really gasp.

"Fifty, and give me two good ones." Lancaster places his wager in form of two tabs, exchanging two cards, and being all cool about it like this was a perfectly normal situation.

"Chase?" Cut squints.

"See your fifty, raise you fifty, and give me one," I answer, staring at the four Kings in my hand, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Fine! I'll see you and take three." Cut suddenly doesn't sound so cheerful anymore.

Lancaster's turn. "I'll see your fifty and raise another dollar."

My turn. "See that and raise you two, Sir."

Cut's turn—he slams his cards on the table. "Oh, to hell with it. I fold."

"It's up to you and me then, Chase," Lancaster grins. "I'll see your two. What you got?"

"Not much, Sir. Two pairs," I say, placing the five cards in my hand face-up on the table.

"And some nice pairs they are, indeed," Lancaster chuckles and displays his cards.

"Well," I start reaching for the pot, but then take a closer look. "Gees, General," I laugh and shake my head.

He grins wide, and rakes in the winnings for the four Aces showing on his cards.

"Well, if that don't beat all," Cut grumbles. "No wonder I ain't had nothin'. You two kept all the good ones to yourselves."