Start A War
Mrs. Morton couldn't get what she wanted by having the Givens move but Tommy had been forbidden from being around Nate in any way, shape or form. It was as if she feared that another knock to the head was imminent just by them being in the same air space. She would step outside of her house and glare down the street as if a herd of guerilla warriors might be trailing Nate from the school bus in an attempt to take over the street and its occupants. She had done her best to head up the pitchfork platoon but found that nobody else in the neighborhood was the least bit interested. Despite the violence that had visited the Givens household, the rest of the neighbors loved having a US marshal around, and all the activity made for good water cooler stories at work. They had simply been an audience to a show that was better than cable.
It was obvious the boys missed one another. They would occasionally catch a glimpse of each other from their respective homes, staring at each other across the DMZ. Mrs. Morton had begun driving Tommy to school, lest Nate's past troubles sneak up and hold the bus hostage. The fact that Nate had been a victim as well seemed to be lost in the turmoil. All Lynn Morton knew was Nate Givens equaled trouble, trouble that she did not want or need for her family.
But perhaps the saddest thing was the fact that Winona had been right in that both Nate and Raylan had already moved on. Not that it didn't still touch them and even change them, but neither one saw the point of rehashing it and letting it define them, even though their reaction defined it all. The facts were that Nate had been kidnapped, that he had shot a man and witnessed his grandfather finish him off. And on top of that, they realized just how demented Arlo was by discovering that his homicidal thoughts had been acted on. The senior Givens disappointed that he had shot the wrong man; but perhaps all that solidified their relationship as they persevered in their little warped world having no idea what else to do. Short of having armed storm troopers follow Nate around, Raylan had to let him live his life. Not that it was easy, far from it. Whenever the boy wasn't in a controlled area or right in front of him, his heart beat a little faster, in fact there were times it downright wobbled in his chest. He loved his son very much and the thought of anything happening to him stopped Raylan in his tracks, but they did seem so far away; far away from all that was normal and decent. They no longer had any idea how of how to respond to the typical customs of the world. They were slipping away, each a victim of their surroundings and if they lost each other, then all would be lost.
It was as if Raylan saw too much of his past in the lost innocence of his son and it had paralyzed him. Nothing had been easy for him as a child and he wanted to do better by his son, but he wasn't sure he had. His life's work had always taken precedence over everything, nothing else being as near and dear. He and Nate had always had a decent relationship, but now that they were being tested on almost every level he wasn't so sure how much longer they could hold on.
He blamed himself; he knew he had failed miserably after Winona left. Feeling sorry for himself and ignoring the one person in his life who he could count on. And despite his recent efforts he feared they hadn't recovered from his total disregard for anything beyond the bourbon in his glass. Nate had felt snubbed and rightly so, even to the point where he had threatened to go off and live with his uncle Cade. But after Nate's little escapade with the slumber party, Raylan tried to snap back to his paternal responsibilities. And things had been much better, until this latest disruption in life.
Raylan hadn't been sleeping well at all since the kidnapping. Even though Quarles was no longer a threat, there were plenty more to choose from. In fact he very well might have invited the biggest one into the fray. But he felt he truly hadn't had a choice. Even with Nate having the upper hand when they arrived didn't mean the boy would have been capable of killing Quarles. But Raylan feared that contacting Seth might have ramifications neither one of them were ready for.
Raylan got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He had the dream again, the same dream he had been suffering with on and off all week. Nate was standing near a scenic overlook, one that for whatever reason had no guardrail. His back was to the cliff and he was taking steps backward as he looked right at Raylan daring him to do something. But Raylan couldn't seem to move and his son took his final step, falling off the cliff. He would wake up with a jerk, heart pounding in his chest and sweat droplets across his forehead. With these dreams fresh in his mind he had been picking Nate up from school quite a bit and let him spend the afternoon making copies and being a gopher at the office.
The following afternoon, Nate looked up to see Raylan in the conference room in a meeting with another agent. Files were stacked up and papers were being moved back and forth. Nate typed in his grandfather's name into the system but found out it had been blocked. He went to the top and found the history label and clicked on that only to find it had been already deleted. Damn, his father was catching on much too quickly. He looked over at Tim's computer and then around the room for the marshal. Not seeing him he slid over into the waiting chair and tried his search one more time only to find the same results.
"Shame on you for even thinking I would aid and abet you in your illegal search," Tim stated looking down at Nate who hadn't heard him come up from behind.
"I have a right to know," Nate tried.
"No you don't. You're a kid, you have no rights."
"Tell me about it," Nate sighed. "You're going to tell him aren't you?" he asked looking over at his father who was shoving a folder towards the man opposite him at the table.
"Most likely," Tim smiled.
"Dammit," Nate whispered, hated having been caught. His father had hardly given him any space and though he appreciated the attention and genuine concern, it was quickly growing old. Lately there just hadn't been any middle ground, just one extreme to another.
It quickly became apparent that Tim did indeed fill Raylan in on Nate's sabotaged search as the man cleared his throat only moments after they got into the car. "So you tried to look your grandfather up?"
"Just like you knew I would," Nate replied watching a fellow commuter try to wedge his way into the traffic flow.
"Look, it's just better that you leave it all alone. Trust your mother's instinct at leaving, respect her efforts and just drop it. I know he helped us but let that be your memory."
"It's the only one I have."
"Exactly, so leave it alone. Understand me?" Nate just sat glowering, unhappy with the request. "Answer me son!" Raylan asked again slowly and sternly.
"Yeah," Nate said quietly.
"What?" Raylan asked looking at his son.
"Yes sir," Nate replied a bit more loudly.
The remainder of the drive was quiet and they were both grateful to see the house come into view. Tommy was in his driveway trying to get the chain back on his bike. He looked up as the Lincoln went by and gave a little wave. Nate waved back and wondered what would happen if he walked down there to help him.
"Don't even think about it," Raylan said as they got out of the car apparently once again reading his sons mind.
Nate looked at his dad a frown appearing on his face. "How do you do that?"
"Because you think too much like me." He said walking to the mailbox.
Nate looked down the street and nodded at his off-limit friend. He looked back towards the house and noticed his father had a small package in his hand. "Is it for me?" he asked grabbing it from his father. "Did Cade send me something?"
Nate looked down and noticed there was no return address and that the handwriting wasn't his uncles, but it was addressed to him. He followed Raylan inside and set down his backpack as he studied the soft brown package.
"Let me have it," Raylan said reaching out for it.
"No, it has my name on it, it's mine." Raylan's face hardened as he stuck his hand out .
Nate sighed and handed over the package. Raylan carefully examined it, noticing a local postmark. He carefully loosened the tape and opened it up to reveal a plastic bag wrapped around something soft.
"See it's fine," Nate said grabbing the bag once again. He opened it up where there was a short note that said, 'we are thinking about you,' along with a black t-shirt that was adorned with a gray rampant lion.
"Shit," Raylan hissed taking both items from his son.
"Hey, what are you doing, those are mine," he yelled.
"No they aren't, it was a mistake."
"No it's not, they're mine, Seth sent them didn't he?"
"What makes you think that?" Raylan asked.
"Because the timing for one thing, no return address and Campbell is a Scottish name and the rampant lion is a symbol of Scotland. And it would make sense that they would use it." Nate said his arms folded.
Raylan just stood there, once again amazed at his son's knowledge and deductive prowess. "Yeah, I'm sure he sent it and that is why you may not have it."
"But it's mine," Nate said again reaching for the shirt, but Raylan easily held it out his son's grasp.
"The relationship is over Nate and I don't want to hear another thing about it. They knew this wouldn't be welcomed and that is why they didn't put a return address on it."
"It's not for you to decide," Nate spat back.
"Oh but it is, I am the father and this isn't going to happen."
"I want to meet them all, I want to go to their house and you can't stop me," Nate said moving to the door as if he was ready to walk all the way to the unknown location in Harlan County.
"Get your ass back here," Raylan ordered.
"You can't stop me," Nate said opening the door.
Raylan closed his eyes and hated where this was heading. He stepped forward and yanked his son away from the door and slammed it shut. "You can't stop me," Nate repeated.
"Sure I can. What are you going to do, walk all the way there to an address that you don't know? Do not start a war with this ridiculous notion of going to your grandparent's house. Now I have made it abundantly clear that this is over and I expect you to abide by my request."
"Well don't get your expectations up!"
Raylan decided he had few choices as stepped forward and grabbed his sons arm. "You will do what you're told whether you agree with it or not." But Nate just stared right back into Raylan's eyes. And suddenly it was thirty years ago and he was staring spitefully into Arlo's eyes. He took a breath and spun Nate around as his hand connected to the boys backside with several stinging blows. He finished and ordered him to sit down.
There was no doubt the act had made an impact in more than one way. He flexed his stinging hand and then sat on the coffee table across from his surly son. "I can do that all day long if I need to. Listen to me boy; you are not to in any way to contact the Campbell's. Like I said before you need to honor your mother's memory by just staying away."
"How can you tell me that? I mean it's your fault we ended up here in hillbilly haven anyway."
"Excuse me?" Raylan asked his eyebrows shooting upwards.
"If you hadn't shot that guy in Miami you wouldn't have been transferred here to the land of the lost. I wish we had never left Florida and I wish that you had said yes when they offered you your job back. But no, we're stuck here, and now that I have seen how colorful your side of the family is, I can't help but be curious about the other side." Nate said flushed with the efforts of his diatribe.
Raylan pointed his finger at Nate shaking it, "you remember all that went on with the Crowder's?"
"Yeah yeah, Ava shot her husband cause he was abusive, Bo nearly killed Boyd cause he was interfering with his meth enterprise, then Boyd wanted to kill Bo out of self-righteous indignation but was beaten to it by those cartel thugs."
"Yes, great family there, but guess what the Campbell's make the Crowder's look like the Cleavers."
"Who?" Nate asked, not familiar with the television family Raylan was referring to.
"Never mind, the bottom line is that you will stay from them and the subject is closed."
"You can't keep me from my family," Nate threatened again.
"I am your family and believe me you do not want to get into a pissing contest over this, you will not win, I can promise you that. Now, I don't want to hear any more about it!"
"Why, what is it that they do that is so horrible? You said they didn't deal drugs, so what is their game, is it moonshine?"
"No."
"Prostitution, human trafficking, spare body parts, what!?" Nate screamed, standing up. "Are they the Dixie Mafia?"
Raylan responded by standing up and forcing his son back down to the couch. "Guns, Nate, they traffic guns, guns that have killed plenty of innocent people. That group you walked up on in the woods that day, most likely just picked up their cache from the Campbell's. They supply groups and gangs from all over; they don't care what happens after they make a sale or who is killed. I'm sure they are deeply involved with the mafia, but whether they buy from them or sell to them I don't know." Nate stayed quiet, processing what he had just been told. "And don't you think for a second that they don't protect themselves and their business fiercely. In fact they're also known for extorting the local pot growers and meth cookers; you don't pay, your crop goes up in flames or your trailer blows up and it doesn't appear to matter if anybody is in it or not.
"I can understand your curiosity about where your mother was raised, but you have to understand that she left it all behind for a reason and she would be deeply saddened and disappointed if you were to walk right back into the place she had never wanted to see again."
Nate still digesting the fact that his extended family was the hillbilly version of the Sons of Anarchy, stood up as he began to notice some discomfort beginning to settle in his lower region. He looked over at his dad who looked beyond exhausted and aggravated. He was rubbing his hand on his pant leg and taking deep breaths.
"Maybe it did hurt you as much as it did me," Nate commented looking at Raylan's hand.
"I highly doubt it, besides I can use tools. Look, that was the last thing I wanted to do, but you have to understand nothing good can come from a relationship with the Campbell's."
"Yeah I'm getting the picture," Nate admitted.
"So we're on the same page then?" Raylan asked his eyes widening.
"Yeah, we're good."
In the following weeks the house remained quiet and peaceful though Raylan still kept his son close. He didn't completely believe that Nate had given up his Campbell quest, but so far it hadn't been mentioned again.
Raylan was making hamburgers in the kitchen while Nate was working on his homework at the table. "Good day at school?" Raylan called out.
"Yeah I guess so."
"Do you ever see Tommy?"
"Sometimes, but we don't have any classes together so it's just in the hallways."
"I'm sorry that you've been banished from his life."
"Yeah me too," Nate sighed as there was a knock at the back door. He got up and got to the back door just as Raylan opened it.
"Well Tommy, it's great to see you. Has the exile ended?" Raylan asked.
"What?" Tommy asked looking confused.
"Never mind," Raylan said stepping back to the stove.
"Did your mom say you could come down here?" Nate asked leading Tommy to the living room.
"No, she went to the store and my dad's taking a nap. If they found out I was down here I would be in big trouble, real big trouble," he added his face serious and solemn. "But I just wanted to tell you that I miss being your friend and that I don't hate you. My mom just freaked out, but I mean all that happened to me was getting hit on the head, but you, you got kidnapped."
"Well I can understand why your mom isn't very happy. She is just trying to protect you. My life has been a bit constrained lately as well." Nate answered.
"My grades haven't been very good either and I keep asking her if you can help me."
"What did she say?"
"She said if I asked again she would have Dad beat my butt. I haven't asked since. I better go before he wakes up or else that might happen tonight," Tommy said moving back towards the door.
"Maybe she'll get past it one day, but if not, I'm sorry," Nate said.
"It's okay, just be careful," Tommy warned his face solemn.
Nate promised he would, though he wasn't sure how much stock could be placed in that assurance.