10. We're the people; Let's All Dance
They are laughing as they stop the Mustang finally -- because they've run out of road. A wall of Oklahoma brush confronts them, black in the darkness.
"Did you see that guy's face when Edward threw him through the window?" Seth crows, slapping Edward's back. Edward is looking more embarrassed than anything.
"That was an accident."
"I can't believe we got out of there before the cops came, or somebody got seriously hurt," Leah says, opening the passenger door so she can get out (or fall out, really; she's sore). Her brother follows. "I don't want to see that bar owner's repair bill."
The Cullen boys are looking sheepish. "Well, um, I sorta left something," Edward says. "On the way out." Jasper shoots him a worried look. "It was cash!" Edward protests. "And the guy behind the bar was hiding. He never saw me."
Leah shakes her head, but is also, oddly, comforted. The wanton destruction of property has always bothered her -- maybe because she's never had that much property to begin with. Even in Hollywood summer blockbusters that she knows are fake, the blown up buildings and wrecked cars of heart-pumping action scenes excite her less than disturb her. She can't help thinking, "Who's going to pay for that?" Only Sam ever understood her conscientious streak. And Emily.
And look what happened there.
She isn't laughing now, and heads toward the trunk, holding up a hand in a wordless request for Jasper's keys. He tosses them to her and she opens it. They retrieve the tent and other camping equipment. Jasper collects his guitar. They will sleep a little, let the excitement die down, then get back on the road. They have to make it to Dallas-Ft. Worth by noon tomorrow. But Jasper and Edward need to eat and eat well because tomorrow they will be in a crowd of tasty humans, not just a pair of werewolves who they swear smell as appetizing as old, wet hiking boots. But first, they set up the tent, or rather Jasper does while Edward and Seth start a small fire. It's for ambience, not heat. Even if it wasn't August in Oklahoma, neither vampires nor werewolves would need it. Leah just watches. Her fist hurts. She might have a good right hook, but that doesn't mean she doesn't bruise her knuckles when she uses it.
Seth sees her fiddling with the hand and comes over to inspect the scraped skin. She's noticed both Jasper and Edward keep their distance. Werewolf she might be, but she's not entirely sure they wouldn't want to eat her anyway if they got a good whiff of fresh blood. "You should phase," Seth says. "You'll heal faster."
She raises an eyebrow at him. "In case you didn't notice, you're all men and I'm not eager to strip down to my underwear, thanks."
Seth rolls his eyes. "I'm your brother, Jasper's married, and Edward's as good as married. We're not going to be ogling you. Gross."
Somewhere behind them in the half-raised tent, she hears Jasper laugh. "It's a brother's job," he calls, "to make his sister feel attractive."
"If you want to phase, we'll look away," Edward assures her.
Truth is, she does want to phase. Tired and sore or not, she's still full of adrenaline from the fight. A good run would be good for her. "Fine," she stands up and grabs the bottom of her t-shirt, yanking it up.
Edward whips his head to the side and shuts his eyes. "A little warning next time!" Seth has turned his back and Jasper is still hidden inside the tent.
She wiggles out of her jeans and then strips off her underwear, carrying it all a little ways into the brush. Sandy dirt, leaves, sticks and even a sandspur prick her soles. "Ow, ow," she mutters. She hopes she doesn't step on anything that'll sting, or bite. It doesn't matter if her werewolf genes would allow her to survive and heal from it; it would still hurt.
She phases quickly and dashes through the surrounding woods for a bit before trotting back to the boys, sitting next to Seth in his camp chair. The tent is up now and Jasper has out his guitar while Edward idly tosses small sticks into the small blaze. With his hat on, and boots and guitar, Jasper really does look the Texas rancher he once was, Leah thinks. He plays quietly, picking something with his fingers, but doesn't sing. She heard him sing earlier and if he's hardly horrible -- being a vampire would preclude that -- his pitch isn't certain or consistent. She prefers the soft plunk of strings anyway. It's soothing and she settles down, head on paws, letting her body repair itself. In the open air, even in wolf form, the presence of the vampires isn't troubling her. Familiarity in this case has bred tolerance rather than contempt.
Except for the music and the sound of the fire, it is quiet in the dark. Animals are keeping their distance, sensing predators more deadly than the usual humans. Abruptly, Jasper stops playing and they all look at him. He is staring into the fire, wearing an odd expression. Edward leans forward, face interested. "That's new," he says. He must be listening in on Jasper's thoughts and Leah wonders why that doesn't annoy Jasper more. She'd told Edward, on the first day of their trip, to stay the hell out of her head. She thinks he's honored it, mostly.
"What's knew?" Seth asks.
"A memory." Jasper looks up. He is smiling. "A human memory I'd forgotten."
"I thought you guys didn't forget anything?" Seth looks to Edward.
"We don't forget what happens to us as vampires, no. Although sometimes, when we grow as old as Carlisle, or the Volturi, there is such a weight of experience we have to dig around a little, like looking in a cluttered closet." He smiles. "But our human lives -- those tend to grow dim. Do you recall your childhood? Or life in the womb? Most people have a hard time remembering much before adolescence, and certainly much before the age of four, due to subsequent brain development. Your brain changes, not just your body, as you mature."
This, Leah thinks, is the two-time medical student talking. Bella told Jacob that Edward and one of his sisters had gone to medical school to help keep their father current.
"When vampires change, our whole physiology changes, including the brain. If we have superior recall afterwards, we also tend to forget what happened before unless we focus on remembering, or somebody helps us remember. Just like people may 'remember' certain events from their childhood, but it's because they hear adults describe those events over and over."
Seth has listened with interest. As with Leah, his teachers say he has a good mind, but it's hard for an Indian boy to find incentive to study in white school. Seth assumes he'll grow up and help run the fish hatchery, like their father before him. Leah thinks he could do more if he wanted to, just like she'd once wanted to -- planned to do -- herself. Then again, given their biology, do they have any choice? She breathes out heavily, a doggy sigh, and rises abruptly to walk over and look at Jasper. She can feel their little fire hot on her back's fur, and tries to . . . think at . . . Edward. Please ask him what the memory was.
"She wants to know what you remembered," Edward obediently translates. It's the first time she's found his mind reading useful, although she supposes it was useful in the storm. He knew there was an overpass ahead of them down the road.
Smiling, Jasper reaches out as if to pet her, then hesitates. She bumps his hand with her nose to say it's all right. He strokes her ears. He still smells bad, but the wind is coming from the south and blowing the scent away. "I saw a friend," he says, "who I'd forgot I'd had. His name was William Tyler, but we called him Wild Willie because he was -- wild. Craziest bastard I've ever known -- human or vampire -- and the funniest."
"Worse than Emmett?" Edward asks.
"Actually, he's probably why I put up with Emmett," Jasper replies. He's quiet again a moment, then continues, speaking as if drawing up memories long buried, "He put an armadillo in the lieutenant colonel's saddlebags once. I'm not sure who was madder, the armadillo or the colonel." They all laugh.
"Trouble was, Willie was under my command -- or he was supposed to be. He pretty much did whatever the hell he wanted and I tried to sweep it under the rug because he was my friend." Jasper frowned. "It was a hard war; he kept us laughing. That's a gift." Jasper's dark gold eyes haze and he's not with them anymore, but somewhere in the past. Leah doesn't want to disturb him. This is, she thinks, important.
After a moment passes, Edward says, more softly, "Tell them about the bar brawl."
Jasper shakes himself a little and takes his hat off, turns it in his hands. It's flattened his wavy hair around the crown. "One night before the Battle of Galveston, my whole company was on leave, so I and some of my officers, including Willie, who was a first lieutenant, headed to a saloon in town that was known for, er" -- he coughed -- "ladies of a certain persuasion."
"Prostitutes!" Seth crows -- needlessly. Leah rolls her eyes and moves back over beside her brother. The wind has changed, overwhelming her with the full scent of vampire.
"Yes, well -- we were soldiers away from home," Jasper explains. "We paid well. This particular evening, everything seemed to be going according to plan until some of the locals showed up and objected a girl we were entertaining. It wasn't even Willie's girl. But because we were officers, and young, and had a little cash -- at least at that point -- we were more appealing than the local boys who'd been kept out of the army due to age or infirmity. In short, if you can have the fellow with two good legs, both eyes and all ten fingers, why settle for the local middle-aged cowboy missing half his teeth and an eye?
"This fellow wanted the girl that . . . Jeff -- that was his name, Jeffrey Riggins -- this fellow wanted the girl Jeff had spoken for and tried to start something. Willie picked up his chair and broke it over the fellow's shoulders and that was it. We tore that place up." Jasper smiles again. "Probably not something to be smiling about but I admit, it was fun, raising hell with Willie. We looked worse after that bar brawl than we did after the Battle of Galveston -- though that's probably because the battle was naval."
He stops again. "It's funny. I haven't remembered any of them since . . . since I've been a vampire. Now, I wonder how I forgot?"
He's becoming more human. Leah hears the voice in her head; it's unexpected and she starts, tries to cover it by licking her shoulder. I don't know what you did -- how you helped him remember -- but thank you, Edward continues. Jasper and Alice have always had the fewest human memories. We understand why, but it's been hard, for them and for us. So thank you. You've given him back something of himself.