Chapitre 11 - Carter
The axe fell down on the piece of wood a first time. Carter raised the tool again and chopped the piece in two. He leaned forward and grabbed the logs to throw them on the pile, on the side of his lawn. He took off his gloves and got a can of beer, resting on the table nearby. The heat was so dense that day, that he could feel a migraine starting to form behind his right eye. He knew that alcohol was not helping, but on his days off his thoughts seemed to have all the freedom to roam around in his head. This morning, he woke up with the distant will to end his life. A faint murmur, the outline of a possible plan, and reasons, lots of reasons. He brushed it all off with beer and whisky before even getting some food in. In the morning, he conducted some errance and in the afternoon, he went fishing. Around five, he went back home and started cutting wood. He already had some stock for the winter, more than enough, but he was looking for impact, violence, hits, something to shake his skull and maybe, straighten his thoughts.
A car stopped nearby, close to his house. Could it be Joe? No… She often went out on the weekend and did not come back until night. He heard steps walking towards his house and he felt some anger, but also fear. What now? He sighted and drunk a big mouthful of beer before crushing and throwing the can on the ground. As he went around his little house, he stopped.
A tall man was standing by his gate. Further down the road, a white hummer, and people walking around it, grabbing bags and books from the back seats. The man was a military. Carter could feel it. Standing straight, eyes up, arms resting on the side. He felt like he would break in a salute at any second now. The veteran was, in fact, suspicious of his brothers in arms. He had seen corruption and the excitement of combat ruining well meaning initiatives. He had also seen the damages angry veterans could do in politics… He could not blame them too much though, because he could, actually, be qualified of angry veteran involved in politics in some ways. He had lots of weapons in his house, and he highly suspected local and federal government to be corrupted… But still. He had the decency to keep it to himself.
He walked forward, ready to just tell him to fuck off of his property. Closer, he could see the red hair on the top of his head, his blue eyes and some scars appearing on his neck and forehead. He had that cold stare of somebody who never really got out of the fight.
"Yeah? What do you want?" said Carter, clearly showing that he was annoyed. The other guy shrugged and said "I just want to talk to you.". The old man fought the urge to insult him. He did not like people who beat around the bush. "Talk about what?" he asked, a couple of feet from the gate. The intruder held a book up, white, with an odd cross. "My name is Jacob Seed. I'm a veteran, like you. We arrived in the area a couple of month ago. We have a veteran program if you want to spare a minute…" his voice was calm and he seemed to pose no threat of any kind. The thing was, it was not the first time Carter had had this sort of visits. A lot of evangelical groups would tap into former militaries to fill in their congregations. It was usually good for the publicity and also would allow them to manipulate a group of people in desperate need of some help. Without saying it out loud, they would exchange their support for food, social activities or job hunting workshops. Carter never liked that kind of thing. First of all, his religious belief was almost non-existent. Something, somewhere maybe existed. But he would not trust any human being to guide anybody for a religion. Nobody was perfect and, more importantly, everybody could be corrupted. That alone, made him highly suspicious of any organised religious group at all. The more powers they had, the more cautious he was.
"A veteran program? No thank you. Where did you get my name and address?" which was really what he was worried about. How did these people get information on him, and what other kind of information did they get? Jacob nodded and seemed to smile. "We just asked around if anybody needed some help…" Carter's face grew wary and suspicious. Who would dare to send him these people? He could, actually, easily think of a couple of old folks who always looked at him their eyes full of pity. But still… The veteran found astonishing how people sometimes could be so easily fooled. He could smell danger on these guys a mile away.
"I don't need help." he said, crossing his arms on his chest. His eyes were running on Jacob's attire. Hunting-like clothes, walking boots… His eyes caught the glimpse of some shapes in his side pockets… Knifes? Guns?... He started to feel more and more uneasy.
Jacob chuckled. "It is sometimes difficult to know when you need help." his voice was firm and steady. As if he was stating something obvious. He added "Well… If one day you chose to be happy, I'll leave our flyer here." he got cut by Carter. "Don't bother." he growled behind his beard. His eyes were darting angrily at the intruder. Jacob smiled again and walked off without seeming annoyed in the slightest.