Charlie found her much-wanted book, right where she'd seen it at the last time she'd been in the mercantile. Mr. Seevers
took her money, leaving her with three cents in change. He was a jovial, friendly-sort of man, asking Charlie about how the
family was. It made Charlie feel good inside, being asked about the Lancers that way. As if she was one of them.
She refused the wrapping of her book, and tucked it under her arm, depositing the three cents into her overalls pocket.
Setting off in the direction of the Stone's home, Charlie thought she'd take just a minute or so to stop at the jail, to say
hello to Mr. Val.
The jail door was wide open, and there was a flurry of dust flying out as Charlie stepped up.
"Ugh," Charlie said, covering her nose. Despite that, she sneezed from the dust.
"Well," Val said, coming thru the doorway, broom in hand. "Hello there, Just-Charlotte. How are you today?"
"Fine," Charlie said, and sneezed again, waving at the dust in the air.
"Sorry about that," Val said, smiling at her.
"It's okay," Charlie said. "You're really stirring up the dust."
"Well, I didn't have much choice," Val said. "My best helper hasn't come 'round lately, to do the sweeping up." He tugged at
her braid in teasing.
"I haven't been by in awhile, have I?" Charlie asked, in agreement.
"No, ma'm, you haven't. I've seen you, riding by on your way to the schoolhouse. Stop over one day after school to
visit."
"I'll have to ask whoever picks me up," Charlie said, and when Val raised his eyebrow in question, Charlie went on, "I can't
ride in by myself for a bit."
"I see," Val said, his brow still up. "Been up to some mischief, have you?"
"It wasn't really mischief," Charlie defended herself.
"Well," Val said, "You might as well come in, and visit."
Charlie followed him thru the open jail door. The air inside was stifling with the heat.
"Coffee?" Val asked her, teasing, as he went to the coffeepot to fill his cup.
"No," Charlie said. "It's too hot for coffee."
"Never too hot for coffee," Val denied.
A sound of a cough from the cell area in the back had Charlie looking at Val curiously.
"Do you have a prisoner?" she asked.
"I do."
Charlie went to peer towards the back. "Is it a bank robber?" she asked.
"Nope."
"A killer?" she asked, her eyes wide.
"Nope," Val said again, amused at her wild assumptions.
"What kind of a crime did he commit then?" Charlie asked.
"Lollygagging."
Charlie wrinkled her forehead, thinking he was teasing, but not certain.
"Huh?" she asked.
"Vagrancy," he clarified.
Charlie knew she'd heard that word, but couldn't place the meaning of it. "Is that bad?" she asked.
"Not too serious. More annoying," Val answered, and when he saw Charlie still looking confused, he added, "It means
being in a place too long, with no purpose for being there. Bothering folks."
"Oh," Charlie said, and took a few more steps towards the cell area.
"Come on away from there," Val ordered, and Charlie sighed, obeying. She sat on his desk, while he sat in his chair, and
they talked for a few minutes, sharing some of the licorice that Val kept. Just when Charlie knew she had to be heading to the Stone's to meet with Teresa, there
was a hollering from the back.
"Hey, there!" And, again, "Sheriff!"
Val sighed, and stood up, heading to the back. Charlie seized her opportunity, and followed after him.
"What is it now?" Val asked, sounding irritated.
"I need a drink," came the crackly voice.
When Charlie stepped up beside Val, she couldn't believe who she saw in the cell. It was the old man!
"Alright," Val said, turning to go back to his office area. "Water coming right up."
"It's whisky I'm needing," the old man called to Val's disappearing back.
"It's water you'll get!" Val hollered back.
Left alone with him, Charlie knew she had to make her time count. She was curious as to why he'd been arrested for
hanging around somewhere that he wasn't wanted. Maybe he'd been going thru the trash again. She took a step or so
closer to the cell door. The man, though dressed the same as before, seemed to have a different demeanor. Charlie couldn't place
just what it was exactly.
"I hope you liked the pears," she said.
The old man went to sit on the cot in the cell, his back to her.
That was strange. Charlie stepped to the door itself, lacing her fingers around the bars. "Did you?" she asked.
Silence.
"Did your dogs come back?" she tried then.
"What are you jawin' at me about?" the old man said.
Charlie realized that he'd limped badly as he walked to the cot.
Why was he being so hostile? When she'd taken the fruit to his shack, he'd been mysterious in his answers, but
not unfriendly. Now, he was sounding like the previous time, when he'd threatened to turn his dogs on she and Jason and Rebecca.
Charlie went a few steps to the left, so she could see his face again.
"Did you finish your carving?" she asked.
"Don't know what you're talkin' about," the old man said, and spit a stream of tobacco into the corner.
Val came back at that moment, a cup of water in his hand. He unlocked the cell door, stepping in to hand the cup to
the old man, who swallowed the water in one gulp, handing back the cup to Val.
Val relocked the door.
"No more hollering, now," Val told him.
"When are you gonna let me out of here?"
"Tomorrow morning. You know that, already," Val said.
The old man narrowed his eyes at Val, and then let his gaze drift to Charlie. He looked at her so intently that Charlie
felt nervous. And, she was nearly positive that one of his eyes didn't move!
"Come on along, Charlie," Val said.
Charlie gave the man one last look, beginning to follow Val.
"Going to be traipsing by my place soon?" the old man asked. "You and those two friends of yours?"
Charlie paused, staring at him. Why was he asking about she and Rebecca and Jason? When he acted as though he
didn't recall two days ago, when she'd brought him fruit, and he'd talked to her. Sparingly, true, but he had talked in a nice
way. In that lilting voice. That was another thing! His voice now didn't have that musical quality to it. It was abrupt, rough.
"No," she said.
"That's too bad, I reckon. My dogs are waitin'," he went on, and Charlie felt a shudder go down her back.
"Charlie," Val said, his tone curt. "Now."
Charlie scurried to him, and he ushered her ahead of him, back towards the office.
Val kept walking, going outside to sit down on the bench. "What's he talking about?" he asked Charlie.
"He means Rebecca, and Jason and me. We were walking in front of his shack on our way back from fishing, and he-" Charlie
hesitated. She didn't want Scott or any of the other Lancers, to know about the gun being waved around, or the angry
demeanor of the old man that day. Scott would wonder even more why she'd taken the risk to walk out there with fruit.
"He what?" Val asked.
"He was hollering," Charlie settled for saying.
"Well, you steer clear of him. You and your friends, both. Hear me?"
Charlie found she still felt a tad frightened by the way the man had said what he had, about how the dogs would
be waiting.
"Yes, Mr. Val," she said, meeting his eyes.
Val studied her, his forehead crinkled. "Why do I get the feeling there's a bit more to this story?"
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