1.
The dry winds stirred up the sand along with the parched, exhausted topsoil, spinning them quickly into small, whirling funnels before breaking them apart again and dropping the dust back to the ground. The sun beat down onto the back of the boy, barely a teen, as he lay belly down on the dirt, not moving. He could feel the heat scorching the back of his neck. Sweat was now dripping off the end of his nose and his ears burned red. Yet he remained perfectly still, and perfectly calm. His mind was clear, and his focus was razor sharp. He'd been like this for nearly an hour. He knew that this was a test of his endurance, but he wanted desperately to give into the tickle he was starting to feel on the back of his sun-scorched neck. Something had bitten him in the night as he slept, and now the itch was ever present, adding to the challenge of remaining calm and unmoving in the dry heat of the midday sun. The boy took another slow, deep breath and pushed the thought of the itch on his neck away from his mind. Without blinking, and keeping his gun trained on the small mound of dirt about one hundred yards away, he thought of his momma and how proud she'd be of him when he brought home his kill.
Times had been tough for a long while now, and since the farm stopped providing, and his daddy was forced to find work in town (work that never seemed to be plentiful in these parts during the best of times) much of the responsibility had now fallen onto the boy's shoulders in order to help keep him and his baby sister fed. Jayne smiled at the thought of his little sister; Mattie was barely a year old, but she was already showing signs that she was gonna be a hellraiser. Jayne adored her and wanted nothing more than to be around her as much as he could, playing with her, and helping to learn her the finer points of hunting and survival. She often sat, or lay on the dusty floor of the small shack they called home, as Jayne instructed her about all he knew of cleaning a hunting rifle, setting small game traps, holding a knife at just the right angle against a whetstone to get the edge razor sharp, and how to tend to the wounds he would often accumulate when out hunting for food to feed her and Momma. 'Course, none of this really struck a chord with little Mattie, who often stared at Jayne, wide-eyed, drooling, giggling, and sometimes blowing raspberries at him with her tongue - all of which brought a smile to her big brother's face. She sometimes wondered in her small brain who this big person was that loved to spend so much time with her, telling her funny things and showing her shiny objects, making her laugh so much. Although she didn't really know, she did like this person a lot, and for Jayne, the feeling was mutual.
In a flash, the smile on Jayne's face disappeared. While letting his mind wander, Jayne failed to notice the movement by the mound of dirt he had been staring at through the scope of his rifle. His eyes narrowed and his focus sharpeded. Thoughts of his baby sister quickly disappeared as a switch flicked on in his brain. He couldn't think of anything other than what he was there to do, and what he had to become in that moment. Jayne was a killer and in this moment, he needed to kill.
In less than a second, less than the time it takes to blink, it was all over. For hours, Jayne had laid in the dirt, beneath a scorching sun, baking and sweating and waiting, and in a fraction of a moment, it was done. Jayne didn't smile. He stood up and stretched, wincing at the pain of stiffness that seemed to spread throughout his body and down into his legs. He had completely lost any sense of the time, but given how sore he felt, it was obvious that he'd been on the ground for a good long while. No matter, he thought, I got 'em. Jayne picked his gun up off the dust ground and slung it over his left shoulder. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked up range to where his prize awaited him. He briefly looked over his shoulder, across the dry, wind-swept dirt field lined with cracked and solid furrows of his father's failed farm. There, far in the distance sat a small, fragile shack looking as worn out and useless as the dirt fields that stretched out for what looked like forever. Tattered curtains blew through the open holes in the walls where the windows should've been. There were no windows, of course. There weren't no need, given the constant heat of the orange sun hovering in the sky that never seemed to lessen in its intensity. Even at night, when the massive ball had finally set below the horizon, and the blackness returned along with the brilliant lights of the various stars and planets of the 'Verse; even then the heat was still there. The dry, oppressive heat that made it near impossible to sleep. The heat that sometimes made it near impossible to breathe, especially when combined with the dust from the ground which seemed to seep into everywhere. Jayne had known his fair share of nights violently shaken from his sweaty, uncomfortable slumber gasping for air, choking on the invisible particles of sharp, irritating dust that had snuck into his lungs as he breathed the hot night air. Luckily, Jayne's lungs were good and strong, and the dust, although a real and constant distraction, had never caused any lasting damage. In his family, it seemed Jayne was the lucky one.
The parched land scraped and crunched beneath Jayne's feet as he quickly made his way towards the prairie rats he'd just moments before picked off as they cautiously peaked their little heads out from the hole in the ground. Jayne was eager to see if he had actually hit them both. That would be a first for him. Two dead with one bullet. He picked up his pace into a jog, and within minutes was standing above his trophy. His trophies. At his feet lay the lifeless little bodies of the two rodents, their fur coats, the colour of the dry, dusty earth were speckled with droplets of red. Apart from the holes (through the chest of one, the head of the other) they looked identical. When alive, prairie rats were impossible to distinguish between male and female. Although they were everywhere on Caliban, there wasn't a lot about them that was known regarding how they lived in the wild.
The creatures lived mainly underground in deep caverns connected by tunnels to the surface. In most communities, they were the bane of many a farmer and their kin, devouring whatever grew out of the soil regardless of whether it were fruit, vegetable or protein alternative. If it grew from the ground, the prairies rats made it their business to claim it for their own. It was also known that they were fast. Only the most skilled shooters were ever able to pick one off as it exited from its hole in the ground. Once out and running, with their fur blending into their dry and dusty surroundings, they were practically invisible to the naked eye. Even still, you had to be both patient and crazy to be willing to dedicate the time and anger towards the small vermin in order to catch one with a bullet when it exposed itself to the world each time it left its den. But Jayne had a particular aptitude for hunting prairie rats. He also knew something that most folk 'round these parts didn't: prairie rats made for some real fine eating, especially when his momma was cooking them up in a stew. He smiled to himself at the thought of the smell of his momma's cooking. He was hungry, and surely enough Momma and Mattie would be back from seeing Doc Zhao about Mattie's cough. Jayne picked up the rodents' limp bodies and started for home, the sun still blazing down on him from above.
"Momma?" Jayne called as he swung open the door in the back of the small farm house. He stepped into the space that acted as the little home's kitchen, "Momma, I got two rats for dinner! Hit 'em both clean with one shot!"
At first there was silence and the house was still. Then from the front room, Jayne heard a sudden, small hacking cough, followed by an anguished little cry coming from the body of a tired little girl.
"Jayne, darlin'? Jayne, come on in here. There's something you need to do." It was Momma. She sounded worried. Momma never sounded worried. Without speaking, Jayne rushed into the next room. Momma sat on the dirty floor, Mattie held close to her, bouncing in her arms. She was calmer now and yawning. Jayne stood for a moment in silence, looking down on the two, "Momma?" he asked, "Momma, are you alright? Wha's the matter?"
"You better go git your daddy, Jayne. I'm afraid that he's gonna need to come on home now and learn 'bout what the doc said."
"What'd Doc say, Momma?", Jayne was more worried than curious. Momma seemed genuinely concerned about something Doc Zhao had said about Mattie. It wasn't like Momma to be worried about much of anything. She was Radiant Cobb. The daughter of a Caliban landowner, and granddaughter of a Magistrate, men who despite their status, never once turned their back on those what needed help. Men who knew how to take care of their own, and weren't afraid to get their hands dirty in order to earn a day's wages when the need was great. Jayne's momma came from a long line of tough folk who knew how to deal with the cards that the Good Lord gave them. And the Good Lord knew that Radiant had been dealt with more than her fair share of low hands of late, the lowest of which being her husband, and the father of her babies; the man who'd courted her despite her own daddy's threats of violence against him if he so much as looked at her. The man whose charm was only outdone by his physical size and strength. The man whose only son, Jayne, was growing to become more and more the physical reflection of his daddy with each passing year. Declan Cobb. A man who promised Radiant love, prosperity, and a loving, healthy family until death they did depart. A man who'd failed at everything he'd put his mediocre mind to. A man whose promises and dreams were always undone by his greed and selfishness. A man who'd spent more time living in saloons and taverns than in the small, fragile home he'd built with his young, beautiful bride so many moons before. A man who Radiant needed more than ever in that moment, as she sat on the dirty floor, cradling her infant daughter in her arms, looking up at her little boy who stood, frightened, yet strong and brave before her.
"Doc Zhao says Mattie's got the Damplung, Jayne." Radiant said, her voice wavering, despite her efforts to not show her concern, "Doc says it's treatable. There's medicine that'll take care of the coughing. But meds ain't cheap. We need Daddy here to git the crops planted and the farm tended to. We're all gonna need to be puttin' in extra work in order to make sure we got money comin' in so's we can afford to buy them meds."
Jayne didn't speak. Mattie has the Damplung. He thought to himself. He'd heard tell of the disease from local kids whose kin had been afflicted by it. It was a slow, creeping sickness that affected the lungs, slowly breaking down the body's ability to use the oxygen in the air. While it wasn't as painful a sickness as Bowden's Malady, or as fast-acting as Traeger's disease, anyone who got the Damplung was stricken with it for the rest of their lives. Jayne looked down on his tiny sister, now sleeping in his momma's arms. A tiny gurgle coming from her tiny lungs inside her tiny body. Jayne could feel his eyes begin to well up, and he quickly forced himself to think about his daddy. The anger in him swelled, and his eyes narrowed.
"Where's Daddy?" he asked his momma.
"In town," She said, "said he was aiming to look for work when he left this mornin'. I'm guessin' he's still there. Lookin'." Radiant's voice trailed off. This angered Jayne even more.
"Guess I'll go fetch 'em then." He took a step, then remembered about his catch: the prairie rats still clutched in his hand, "Here, Momma," he said, reaching out his arm to show her the dead animals, "Shot us some rats for a stew."
"You're a good boy, Jayne." She said, looking up at him, "You always look after your sister an' me. You always make me so proud." She smiled a genuine, yet somehow sad smile. Jayne smiled back and crouched down, laying the rats gently on the floor beside his momma and sleeping sister.
"I'll be right back, Momma." he said.
"I know you will, baby Jayne." she kissed his forehead.
Jayne stood, set his hunting rifle beside the door, and once again stepped outside of the small house and into the heat of the blazing late afternoon sun. It was time to go hunting again.
2.
There were three taverns in town. There were four gambling houses, and there was one brothel. Jayne knew it was still too early in the day for the brothel to be in full swing, and after the incident a few months back, there was no way his daddy would be able to set so much as a foot in the doorway without the sheriff an' his men bein' called. Jayne also knew that there weren't so much as a credit to be scrounged up by his old man in order to place a bet in any of the gambling houses (not that any one of 'em would allow Declan Cobb a seat at any of the tables, given how much he owed in bad bets and unpaid tabs. Declan was a terrible gambler, true, but even he wasn't so stupid as to show his face in any of the betting taverns on the far end of town). That left the taverns.
Jayne thought about the different taverns his daddy might be in as he walked along the bustling, dusty, sweltering street. He knew that Daddy had connections in all three saloons. However, he wouldn't be goin' to Yángguāng Cànlàn anymore on accounts that Miss Xiu, the owner, was currently serving time in the town jailhouse for selling bootleg moonshine that stripped four men of their sight, and put another seven into early graves. He had no reason to be goin' there, as his daddy would have to pay for his drinks now that Miss Xiu weren't in charge no more. Jayne also knew that his daddy would likely not be at the Whiskey Still, as that was an establishment frequented by a clientele of a much higher standing. Clean men and women who came from credits and reputations that far exceeded anything associated with Declan's kind. Perhaps at one time, Jayne thought, maybe Momma and Daddy would have been welcomed into the Whiskey. Perhaps when Grandad were alive, or maybe if Great Grandpappy were still around. But not now. Definitely not now. So that left Jayne with only one place to go: Zhū De Shí Cáo. The Pig's Trough.
Even before the tavern came into sight, Jayne could hear the raucous calamity of shouting, laughter, arguments, and verbal abuses exploding from the walls of the clapboard building that sat at the end of a narrow alleyway; it was out of sight, but due to the obnoxious noise coming from it at all hours of the day and night, never out of mind. Rounding the corner off the town's main street, Jayne started down the tight alleyway. The light from the late afternoon sun faded as he advanced along the gap between buildings, cautiously making his way towards the menacing tavern at the literal end of the road, all the while carefully eyeing the passed out bodies that littered to ground at his feet, and trying to avoid the eye contact of the various thugs, thieves and ne'er-do-wells that clung to the grime-ridden brick walls of the alleyway. Defying all laws of physics, the wretched building was barely vertical. It looked about as worn down and beaten up as the men who frequented it: it was full of broken windows, broken railings, broken doors, and broken men. It was silly to feel this way, but Jayne couldn't help but to feel intimidated by the building. It was as if the structure itself was daring him to keep walking, to step foot inside. Jayne wondered what drove men to willingly enter such places as this. Jayne worried that he might one day find out for himself.
For a moment, Jayne stood in front of the open hole in the wall where the tavern's door once stood. Something (or rather someone) had blown the door from its hinges at some point in the past. In fact, the hinges were still there, still screwed tight into the timber frame. The door, or whatever traces were left of it, was long gone. Inside, The Pig's Trough was dark. Jayne could barely make out any details as he scanned the dim room for his father. Despite the time of day, the small barroom was cramped and packed to the rafters with patrons, mostly men. Loud, aggressive conversations slammed into each other, morphing into an incomprehensible cacophony of unintelligible sound. Glasses shattered, punches were thrown. Suddenly, Jayne realized that he was standing flush in the path of an oncoming tsunami of anger and testosterone. The growing amorphous black shape staggered into some light and Jayne could see several men wrestling, punching, choking and biting one another, completely oblivious to the young teen standing in their path. Wide-eyed, Jayne took a quick step to his left and pinned himself to the exterior wall of the tavern just in time to see the writhing mass of drunken fighters crash through the doorway and fall to the ground where all four continued to pummel one another, with neither a clear reason, nor allegiance. Not wanting to become a target for the violent group, Jayne turned and stepped inside the shadows of the tavern.
His eyes slowly became accustomed to his surroundings, and he stood in his spot trying to establish some idea of where things were. His body jerked suddenly forward, and he reacted in order to maintain his balance.
"Watch it, you yúchǔn de háizi." growled the short, burly man as he pushed past Jayne. Before Jayne could respond, he was again shoved, but this time from the front: a large hand pressed against Jayne's chest, moving him back several steps.
"The hell you doin' in here, boy?" slurred a familiar voice. Jayne turned his head and squinted his eyes in order to make out who was speaking to him.
"I said, what're you doin' here?"
"Daddy?" asked Jayne, still unsure who was standing in front of him.
The man stepped forward, and Jayne could see him clearer now. A slight feeling of relief came over Jayne and then quickly disappeared. Before him stood - swayed - his father, Declan Cobb. In his hand, a filthy, partially filled bottle of wood alcohol sloshed as Jayne's father struggled to maintain his balance. Jayne didn't know what he should do, or what he should say. He stared at his daddy. Declan Cobb was barely able to keep his eyes open, and despite the dimness of the room, Jayne could see the bleary, bloodshot redness of them. Declan reached out a massive hand with great effort and brought it down with a thump on his son's young, broad shoulder.
"Come here, boy." he said to Jayne, leaning in way too close to Jayne's face. Jayne recoiled at the smell of the alcohol on his daddy's breath, but Declan pulled him closer. "Come siddown wi' me and haff a drink." Jayne was again jerked forward as his drunken father wrapped his large tree trunk of an arm around his son and half guided, half dragged Jayne to a filthy table with a pair of empty chairs. "Gimme a drink for m'boy!" Declan called out to no one in particular, gesturing in the air wildly with his free hand. No one in particular responded to his demand. Declan shoved Jayne onto a chair and then fell into the one beside it, and took a long swig from his bottle.
"Daddy," Jayne started, leaning in to speak to Declan so's to avoid inviting the closely packed strangers standing around him into the private conversation between him and his father, "Momma needs you to come on home now. She's been to see Doc Zhao about Mattie."
Declan, swayed in his chair, and struggled to focus in on his son sitting beside him, "Maddie?" he said, confused, "Wha's wrong wi' Maddie?"
"Momma took her to see the Doc. About her cough." Jayne replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. How could his daddy forget about Mattie's cough? Or that Momma was planning on taking her to see Doc Zhao? How drunk was he? "Doc says Mattie's got the Damplung. Say's that there's meds to treat it, but they're gonna cost us to get 'em. Momma needs you to come on home and git the crops planted. She's gonna need you to come on home to help out."
"Plantin' crops?" Declan began to laugh, his heavy, drunken body lurching from side to side, "Wha' kinda stupid are you t' think that anything's gonna grow outta that lèsè de xiāngliào land? Huh?"
"But Doc says that the meds'll help Mattie. She'll be okay if she gets the meds." Jayne's efforts to reason with his father seemed like a hopeless endeavor, but he had to at least try, "What about you gettin' a job? Momma said you was comin' into town today to find a job-" Jayne's words were abruptly cut short by his daddy's massive hand being violently brought down onto the top of the small table between the two of them. The sound exploded through the general noise of the tavern, and some arguments and conversations nearby stopped altogether as the patrons paused their own disputes to turn their attention towards Jayne and his father. Any humor in Declan's voice was now gone and Jayne could both feel and see his daddy filling with rage.
"A job? She wants me to find a ruttin' job? Well you can tell your no good lǎnduò de jìnǚ mother that there ain't no gorram jobs in this here town. An' there ain't no jobs on this gorram planet, neither." He leaned in close to Jayne, lifting his bear paw of a right hand and wrapped it around the back of his son's head, jerking it close so that Jayne's nose nearly collided with Declan's. Jayne was suddenly terrified. "In fact," Declan snarled, "you go back an' tell your momma that if she wants credits for some gorram meds, then she can jus' go crawlin' over to Miss Kitty's Scratch House and beg her for a job workin' with them other down'n'out girls. Figure there's still someone in this làn chòu town that'll be willin' t' pay for what's left of her."
That was enough. The fear was flushed from Jayne like a cork being pulled from the bottom of a wash basin, and it was quickly replaced by a crashing wave of burning rage. It was one thing to be the target of his daddy's abuses, both physically and verbally. Jayne'd spent enough time being the target of his daddy's foul mood swings to know what to expect. Most often it didn't much affect him as it once did. But the line was crossed when Momma became Daddy's target. And Daddy jus' went and crossed that line for the last time.
"Don't you never say nothing 'bout Momma again." Jayne said, his voice wavering, his eyes narrow and filling with angry tears.
"Wha' you say to me, boy?" Declan half whispered his question, his voice flat. Jayne didn't respond, but kept his eyes locked on his father's. "I said," spoke Declan, louder and angrier, "Wha'd you jus' say to me?" Jayne drew in a breath, tears now beginning to roll down his cheeks, "I said," Jayne spoke slowly, trying desperately to maintain his composure, "don't you never say nothin' 'bout Momma ever again." A smile slowly stretched across Declan's weathered and sun-beaten face, "Tha's what I thought you said."
With a surprising burst of sudden energy, Jayne's daddy stood up, causing his chair to fly backwards into the nearby wall with a clatter. The large man shoved the table that had stood between himself and his son to the side, and it collided into a small group of men seated to the left of them. Declan lifted Jayne to his feet by the front of his shirt, and for a moment, Jayne could feel himself physically leave the ground. Terrified by his daddy's burst of violent energy, Jayne did the only thing his mind could think to do, and he reached out his hands to grab at his daddy's arm, trying to somehow pull the massive limb away from himself. As Jayne struggled, he could see Declan's fist rising up to be parallel with Jaynes face, cocked back and ready to strike. He also noticed the group of men quickly making a crowd around him and his furious, drunken father. Declan, apparently, did not notice them.
"Hǎo ba! Fàng kāi gāisǐ de háizi! Now!" A booming voice shook the room, and there was suddenly a dramatic drop in volume of the ambient noise in the bar. Declan, still holding onto Jayne's shirt, hand still clenched in a fist, arm still cocked and ready to pummel his son, turned slowly on his unbalanced feet, and met the glare of the crowd that had formed in a semi-circle behind him.
Declan blinked at the sight of so many people. Where'd they all come from? He thought momentarily. The largest of the men took a step forward, arms at his sides, thumbs holding onto belt loops in the front of his pants.
"I said," spoke the enormous man, leaning down to get in close to Declan (who himself was well above average height in his own right) "Let the gorram kid go."
Declan blinked again, and the room began to heave and swim.
"An' jus' who in the dìyù do you think you are to be tellin' me how's I should be disciplinin'' my boy?" Declan slurred, angrily.
"I'm the fella what's goin' be givin' you to the count of three to let that boy go before I use your face to clean off the filth from this here floor." the huge man replied, in a calm, clear voice.
Declan's grip on Jayne's shirt eased, and Jayne took several steps backwards, never taking his eyes off his daddy and the enormous man towering over him. Jayne was shocked to see that his daddy had now turned his attention towards the massive intruder, and the wall of equally large men behind him. Declan took another unsteady step forward, his chest inching closer to the large man's belly. He was nearly looking straight up the giant's nose.
"An' I'm the man…" Declan began, "wha's givin' you an' your band of miàn duì pìgu shībài zhě th' count of three to-" without warning, Declan swung his right hand, closed tight in a fist forward towards the large man's face. The sudden shift in his weight caused him to quickly lose his balance and Declan staggered sloppily to his left. The large man moved deftly to the side and without hesitation, swiftly brought his right knee up and with perfect timing connected it squarely with Declan's forehead. Jayne watched, completely stunned, as his daddy's head quickly snapped back as he continued to fall towards the floor. He landed on the wooden planks with a solid thud and lay motionless among the forest of boots and legs that now surrounded him. A long, drawn out snore slowly leaked from his mouth. Jayne's daddy was out cold.
Jayne stood motionless. What was he supposed to do now? Was he responsible for his daddy? Did he have to figure out how to drag him home? Was there anyone gonna help him? It seemed like everyone had suddenly just gone back to drinking and arguing; ignoring the scene that'd just played out in front of them. The tavern was once again a swirling mass of raucous noise, drowning out his daddy's snoring. Drunken patrons moved through the cramped space carefully stepping over Declan's body so's not to trip and spill their drinks. Jayne's whirling thoughts were disrupted by the sounds of boots approaching. Lots of heavy boots. Jayne looked up.
"Wha's your name, boy?" the familiar voice was calm and clear. Jayne looked up, and then looked up some more. His eyes met those of the massive man who'd just moments before put Jayne's daddy to sleep with the top of his knee. Jayne cleared his throat, "Jayne, sir. Name's Jayne Cobb."
"That your daddy, Jayne Cobb?" the large man asked, nodding in the direction of Declan.
"Yessir." Jayne answered, no longer fearing the man.
"Why you in here, Jayne?" the man seemed to be studying the boy, his eyes shifted from Jayne's eyes to his arms to his chest and back again.
"I came in here lookin' for my daddy. Momma sent me to get him back home. We ain't got money, an' Doc says we need meds for my sister…"
"An' you need your daddy over there to get hisself a job so's you can afford the medicine?"
Jayne nodded, "That's 'bout it. 'Cept he don't want no part of it." He could feel the coming wave of sadness begin to creep into his voice. Jayne tried hard to force the emotion down. He didn't want these men to see him cry. Not in here. Not never.
"Where's your momma an' sister now?" the man asked.
"Back home. 'Bout three-four miles up road." Jayne said, trying to steady his voice. The man thought a moment, and looked at the group of four men standing behind him. He leaned in close to one of them, the man standing closest to him, also large, and intimidating. The dark skin on his shaved head gleamed with sweat. He shifted the stub of an unlit cigar that was clenched between his teeth from one side of his mouth to the other as he listened to the whispered words of his partner. The massive man finished what he was saying, and drew back from his partner, who in turn addressed the other three men in the group, who each eyed Jayne as they listened intently to what was bein' said. They looked at one another, and then back to the cigar chomping man. One of them nodded. The massive man watched his group, then turned back towards Jayne.
"How old are you, Jayne?" the man asked.
"Fifteen, sir." Jayne replied, unconsciously trying to somehow make his age sound more impressive than it actually was.
"What you know about firing a gun?" the man asked.
"Been hunting prairie rats since I was 'round seven or eight."
"And? You any good?"
"Hit two jus' today. Only took the one shot." This seemed to slightly impress the men in the group. The man in front of Jayne nodded.
"You ever been off planet, Jayne?"
"No sir," he replied, "only ever heard tell of other places. Lived on Caliban my whole life."
"How'd you like to fly with us? Me an' my crew here been lookin' for some recruits. We're short a few after our last job. Caught some trouble out on Deadwood and lost some of our own. We thought we'd stop for a spell on Caliban to recover an' t' see about pickin' up some prospects to round out numbers. Wha'd you say?" Jayne stood in silence. He was at a genuine loss for words. He'd never been offered any sort of job t'weren't on the farm, hunting, or tending to Mattie while his momma got some rest. The massive man and his crew stood, impatiently waiting for the boy's response. Jayne glanced at his daddy, still out cold on the dirty, gime-covered floor, surrounded by roughnecks, losers, and no-gooders just like him. There weren't nothin' Declan Cobb could ever offer either him, or Momma, or Mattie. If there were any earnings that had any chance of comin' their way, it was gonna have to fall on the shoulders of young Jayne, and in that moment, lookin' down on his beaten daddy, snoring amidst the fence posts of legs and filthy boots, Jayne realized what he needed to do. He turned back to face the man and his crew, "Can I ask my momma, first?"
3.
The sight of Jayne walkin' up the dirt path towards the house, followed closely by the gang of large, unseemly men was enough to bring Radiant out onto the front stoop, with Mattie perched in her arms and clutching a small wooden hunting knife that Jayne had carved for her out of wrotwood. The dull tan coloured blade was held in her small fist, and she happily gnawed on the handle, which was dark and slick with her drool. Jayne raised his hand and waved to her, a forced smile on his face. Radiant wasn't buyin' it.
"Jayne? Where's your daddy? Who are these men?" her eyes narrowed, and she fixed her gaze squarely on the biggest one of the group, the one standing beside her son, with a cocky grin on his unwashed, unshaven face.
"Daddy, uh, said… He's… he's still lookin'-"
"Your man ain't likely gonna be home for a spell, ma'am." said the large man next to Jayne, "Seems like he'd gone and had himself a few too many bottles of the liánjià shuǐ down at the Trough. Last we seen o' him, he was takin' a real close look at the craftsmanship of the establishment's floorboards. Had a real keen eye for the nuances of the nailwork, in particular." The men behind him chuckled and sneered at the wisecrack. Radiant was far from impressed.
"An' jus' who in the wǒ de tiān are you an' why do you have my son?" Jayne tried to step in and calm his momma's fears, "Momma, s'alright. They's not here to-" he was abruptly interrupted.
"Ma'am," the largest man spoke, right hand raised as though to diffuse the mounting tension, "I apologize for my rudeness in not providin' you with a more proper introduction. My name is Captain Uriah Hough, an' this here's my crew," he turned and gestured to the men standing behind him and Jayne with a sweeping motion of his arm, "Quong Ji, Zhang Wei, Billy Foreaux, and Vernon." the men all nodded as their name was spoke. Uriah Hough turned back to Radiant, whose expressionless face remained solid as if carved in stone. Mattie gurgled contently in her arms.
"An' that there must be little Mattie, what Jayne's been tellin' us so much about!" exclaimed Uriah, a smile stretching across his face, "Jayne tell's me she's a gonna be a real piànzi when she gits older. Judgin' by the way she handles that there blade, I can tell she's gonna be a true force to reckon with!" Again the men behind Uriah chuckled in unison. Radiant stepped off the front stoop and began to advance on the group hovering around her son, "Jayne, you come here right now." She spoke sternly, not taking her eyes off of the group.
"Momma, I-" again Jayne was interrupted, this time by Radiant.
"I said now, boy." Although still several feet away, she reached out her hand as if to pull Jayne to safety. Jayne sighed, and hung his head, and slowly walked over to where his momma stood. He didn't look up.
"Now you listen here," Radiant continued to Uriah and his men, once Jayne was safely by her side, "I ain't got no time for games, and I ain't got no intentions to be threatened by some group of thugs fixin' to muscle in on what little we got. But whatever that shǎguā husband of mine done got hisself into, well, we ain't wantin' any part o' that. So you can jus' take your gang, and take your grievances elsewhere. We're honest folk here, an' we ain't lookin' to stir up any trouble." Radiant's voice, though strong at first, began to falter. She was clearly growing concerned, and both Jayne and Uriah noticed.
"Momma," Jayne said, putting his arm on his Radiant's shoulder, "Cap'n Hough says I can fly with him an' his crew. He says he can pay me. He says I can work for him so's we can get Mattie the meds she needs." She turned and looked into Jayne's eyes, and in that moment, she didn't see her little boy, but rather a young man. She looked at Uriah and his crew, still standing several feet away.
"It's true, ma'am," said Uriah, "your boy told us the whole story on the walk from town. Told us how Doc Zhao gave you the news today 'bout Mattie's Damplung. Told us how his daddy don't much seem to care 'bout helpin' out these days." Now Uriah took a step forward, "I ain't tryin' to steal away your boy." he said, his voice slightly softened, "what Jayne's sayin' is the honest truth. Time's is tough, ain't no two ways 'bout it. The Alliance got their hands full with the rebels, an' folks like you are the farthest thing from their minds. All's I'm offerin' is a chance for Jayne here to earn some pay, and get some skills what'd help him for future job prospects."
"And jus' where you fixin' to take him?" Radiant pressed, not yet convinced.
"To be straight and honest, ma'am, I can't say. We go where the work is, where the need for our services happens to be."
"And what services are those, exactly?"
"Me an' my crew wear many hats. We're shippers, messengers, security…"
"Smugglers, gangsters, and mercenaries." Radiant cut in.
Uriah smiled, "...and, yes, at times, we are smugglers, gangsters and mercenaries."
"You're criminals." Her voice had become stern and tough.
"We're survivors. We provide services to those in need, regardless of what side they happen to be on. Like I said before, times is tough, but there's plenty o' work out there so's long as you don't let politics, or the law, get in the way."
Radiant was unmoved. "I didn't raise my boy to be a pirate or a thug."
"No ma'am, you did not. You raised the boy to look after you and yours. You raised the boy to survive. An' that's why I am willing to offer him a spot on my ship. I can promise you, he'll be looked after. We'll keep him outta trouble. Make sure he's kept on the ship and away from danger - fact, I was plannin' on havin' him start out in the galley, apprenticing alongside Billy over there." Uriah getured over his shoulder with his thumb, and Radiant glanced in the direction of the short, burley, man with a mustache that curled up at the ends. His appearance did little to quell her concerns. Uriah continued, "With Jayne studyin' under Billy, he'll learn all 'bout runnin' a kitchen, and learn hisself how to cook up all manner of dishes with nothin' more than a block o' protein and a handful o' simulated spices from the far ends o' the 'Verse." Uriah paused, but continued to smile.
"An' what're you plannin' on payin' for Jayne's services?" Radiant asked.
"He'll start out with a standard greenhorn fare, two percent of the overall earnin'. However, I ain't got no doubts that in time, and with some hard work, Jayne'll be makin' his fair share along with everyone else." Uriah paused as he studied Jayne's momma for a reaction. Her stoic, expressionless face hid her thoughts well. But for just a moment, a crack in her defenses showed: she glanced at her son, and then let out a short sigh. Uriah knew he'd made an impression.
"Oh, and one more thing," he continued on, turning to the dark-skinned man with an unlit cigar in his mouth, whom Uriah had identified as Vernon, and held up his left hand. Instinctively, Vernon tossed him a small canvas pouch that clinked with a metallic sound as it flew through the air and landed in Uriah's outstretched hand. He turned back to face Jayne and Radiant, and without a word, extended his arm and offered the pouch and its contents to her. Cautiously, Radiant stepped forward and took the pouch from him. She turned to Jayne. Without a word, he came forward and scooped Mattie from his momma's arms. Mattie cooed and let out a small giggle. Radiant untied the leather strings from the top of the small canva bag and peered inside. Immediately Radiant looked up, wide eyed, at Uriah and his men. She turned and stared at Jayne.
"What is it, Momma?" Jayne asked, confused.
Radiant turned back to Uriah, "What's this?" she asked, genuinely unsure of what to make of the offering she held in her hands.
"Think of that as a downpayment for the use of your boy. A promise to you that what I've said is genuine and true. I may well be all those things that you've so plainly pointed out, ma'am, however, one thing that you seem to have missed, is that I am a man of my word. Certainly, I'd be just as willing to take the boy and leave ya'll with nothing, but I more than appreciate the hardships that you've found yourself in. I had me a family once too, not unlike what you have here. I know just how hard times can get. We all been touched by the war, some of us more'n others. An' while I ain't tryin' to be any sort o' hero by givin' you this here money, I sure would feel like a villain if I didn't at least try to compensate you for bringin' your boy onto my ship an' makin' him a part of my crew." Uriah paused and carefully observed Radiant. She didn't speak, but her eyes spoke plenty for her. They had become soft, and glassy. Tears were blurring her vision. She was at once furious at the thought that her child could be bought from under her, but also overwhelmed with a sense of relief that Uriah would be willing to give so much in order to help alleviate the financial burdens that she faced.
"I don't know what to tell you." She said, her voice choking up, "This is. . ." she failed to find the proper words.
"This is enough to pay for the meds that little Mattie's gonna need for next couple o' months until Jayne'll be able to send ya'll more." Uriah explained, "Plus, there should be enough left over to help with feedin' the little piànzi too." He looked at Jayne, as he held Mattie in his arms, and smiled. Uriah then returned his eyes to Radiant, who continued to look into the canvas pouch.
"Ma'am?" Uriah asked.
"Momma? Wha'd you think?" added Jayne. Radiant let out a long, drawn out sigh, and looked up, her eyes red with tears. She looked suddenly exhausted, as though a heavy weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders. She looked at Jayne.
"And is this what you want, Jayne?" Her voice had become softer now. Jayne felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he looked at his heartbroken mother. He'd never seen her like this before. He wanted to comfort her, but instead he just nodded.
"Yes, Momma." he said, dropping his eyes to the ground, ashamed of his decision. Radiant felt the hot tears roll down her cheeks. She was helpless. In that moment, all of her anger, frustration, and sadness that she'd worked so hard to control and suppress came flooding out of her in heaving sobs. She felt her legs buckle and she sunk to the ground. Jayne rushed to her side, quickly accompanied by Uriah, and his men.
"Momma?" Jayne asked, placing a hand on her back, "Are you alright?" Radiant looked up at her boy, and placed a hand on his cheek. In that instance, she saw how much Janye had matured. He looks so much like his daddy, she thought. Her little boy was becoming a man, and she knew there was little she was going to be able to do to stop this process.
"Yes, wǒ de bǎobèi." she said to Jayne, "If this is what you've decided on, then I ain't gonna stand in your way. You're a man now, an' you're gonna make up your mind how's you see fit. Jus' promise me that you be real careful an' write to me as often as you can." she turned to Uriah, and his men, wiping her tears from her damp face, "An' you," her tone taking a more sinister tone, "you best be true to your word an' take good care o' my boy, lest I have to hunt you and yours down m'self." Despite the severity of her warning, Uriah smiled, and offered her his hand, as he rose slightly from his crouching position on the ground beside Jayne. Radiant placed her hand in his, and he gently pulled her to her feet.
"There ain't a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't, ma'am." Uriah told her, "An' as long as your boy is on my crew, I'll see to it personally that he stays in one piece." He turned to Jayne. "Alright, boy. Look's to me like you got yourself a job. Go on an' get your things. We ain't got much more time to waste. There're jobs that need gettin' to, and the sooner we can get to them, the sooner you can start learnin' the ropes." Jayne nodded, and gently passed Mattie back to his momma before sprinting into the small house. Not more than a few quiet moments passed before Jayne was jogging back to the group.
"You got all you need?" asked Uriah. Jayne nodded, lifting up a large duffle bag that was only partially filled. Radiant stepped in front of Jayne, tears again filling her eyes. With her empty arm, she reached around Jayne's neck and pulled him in close. Jayne wrapped his arms around her and Mattie in return.
"G'bye, Momma." he whispered, "I'll send you credits as soon as I get 'em."
"You don't worry 'bout that, Jayne." Radiant spoke into her boy's ear, "You jus' look after yourself. Be careful, an' don't trust no one. Soon as you're able to find your way back home, you do it. Mattie an' me'll always be here waitin'." she squeezed him close, then loosened her grip, kissing him on his forehead. Jayne sniffled, and quickly wiped away the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. He cleared his voice and tried hard to sound like a grown up, "Yes, ma'am. I surely will." He kissed his little sister gently on her forehead, "An' you, you little fēnglì de shèshǒu, make sure you take good care o' my rat shooter. An' don't forget: before you pull that trigger, make sure you let out your breath good an' slow, an' always aim in front of the target, that way you won't miss behind 'em." Mattie gurgled, stuck out her tongue, and blew a raspberry at her big brother. Jayne smiled.
"Alright, Jayne," Uriah spoke, "it's time to get gone."
Jayne again wiped his eyes, and took a step away from his momma and sister.
"Yessir, uh, Cap'n." he said, "Bye, Momma. Mattie."
Jayne turned and walked towards Uriah and his men. Uriah once again smiled, and looking at Radiant, nodded to her. Radiant did not respond, but remained focused on the group of men as they led her baby boy away. Uriah turned, and swiftly walked away, joining his crew as they disappeared down the dusty road.
The heat of the day was finally fading, as the sun sunk lower in the sky. Radiant continued to watch the group of men, and Jayne, until they disappeared over the horizon. She continued to stand in her place until the sky grew dark. In silence, she crouched down and picked up the canvas bag from the dry ground. The credits within clinked and scraped against themselves. She felt the weight of the bag, and then looked at Mattie, who was dozing peacefully in her arms. Radiant turned and walked slowly back towards the small house on her dry and barren farm; the snoring little girl held firm in Radiant's arms, shifted and let out a sigh. The sound of a gurgle bubbled up from somewhere deep within her small, tired body.
HB77