Claire Randall Fraser - Oh, Fate won't be too bothered beyond the cheating thing...hopefully it doesn't come to that.
RandomMoonshadow - Poor Merle...give him some credit. He'd probably die laughing first. ^_^
itsi3 - I love that you called Fate 'hunny' it's adorable to me. Keep that up!
delenadreamer16 - I think everyone at this camp are suspicious as all hell...they best watch themselves.
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Chapter Thirty-One: Where Did You Sleep Last Night?
**Ryan Kowalski**
"What I really wanna say, mah baby. What I really wanna say is I've got mine, and I'll make it, oh yes I'm coming up."
Dangling his legs over the edge of his brother's treehouse, Ryan kept his eyes on the road, his hands on his rifle.
"Okay, but then how did the fish get in the lakes?" Pace demanded from the other side of him, where he was holding a conversation with Sid who was also helping out on guard duty.
Winter wasn't really the busiest time for the farm, so they always had plenty of eyes in the sky.
"Look, the fish were there when the lakes formed, they didn't migrate."
"But how?"
"Tell Sanchito that if he knows what is good for him he best go run and hide. Daddy's got a new Forty-Five. And I won't think twice to stick that barrel straight down Sancho's throat. Believe me when I say that I got somethin' for his punk ass."
"It just happened. The fish evolved in the lakes, the basins and lakes of the land are old, like real old."
"No, God put them there."
"God is…" Sid sighed. "There is no God."
"You know don't that, science boy." The Texan argued.
"If there was a God, would He have done this to His creation?"
"What I really wanna know, mah baby. Oh, what I really wanna say is there's just one, way back, and I'll make it, yeah. My soul will have to wait, yeah, yeah, yeah." Ryan continued to dangle his legs and check down his scope now and then.
Beside him Charlie caught his attention and motioned to where Vivian was creeping around behind the barn.
Touching his right pointer finger to his forehead, then motioned to Vivian, then resting his hand over his stomach pulled it out, fingers sort of claw like.
Think she's pregnant? He had asked.
Ryan shifted to one side, then holding his pointer finger up facing outwards, Ryan turned it around to face himself, then because he had to hold his rifle with one hand, he used just one to pull out to the side and puffed up his cheeks to get the point across to his brother.
Or just fat, he replied.
Charlie frowned disapprovingly and held up both hands, palms down and swayed them sternly from side to side.
Behave.
"Alright, then explain Elvis," Pace growled.
"Presley?" Sid demanded.
"Is there any other Elvis?"
"Costello?"
"Don't be facetious," Pace growled.
"That's a twenty dollar word for a ten gallon hat," Sid retorted dryly.
Ryan smiled to himself at the two. Always interesting when they got into their debates.
"What does Elvis have to do with proving God exists?"
"This boy comes along and suddenly rock 'n roll comes alive. You tell me that's not God."
"Elvis didn't-!" Sid barked, before taking a calming inhale. "Elvis didn't give life to rock n' roll. Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters, they gave fucking life to rock n' roll. Elvis stole, he was a stealer, a thief. If you want to pray to a god of music, you better get your ass to church and thank Big Mama Thornton."
"What? That—"
"Okay, look," Sid said. "The Animals weren't the first to sing House of the Rising Sun. Elvis didn't come up with Hound Dog all by his lonesome. That's white washed musical history for you!"
"Sid, your ass is a little too white to be making this speech," Ryan scolded lightly.
"Why? I can't educate you poor dumb country boys about a few facts?" Sid demanded. "Did you know we white men literally raped Native American women on our way pushing west as part of our 'Manifest Destiny'? Oh, but yet every fall, here we are eating turkey and thanking each other and God for our blessings? We're the worst."
"When was the last time you ate turkey, jackass?" Pace snarled. "Keep your white guilt to yourself. Shit, I feel bad enough, can I get through a fucking day without you making me feel like more white trash shit? Christ," the man finished with a mutter. "Eve!" He shouted as the black woman passed by on her way after Vivian to check on the woman tending to the horses. "You know I love you, right?"
"Of course, baby."
"I'm sorry for the white man!" The cowboy added.
"Me too," she returned with a small grin.
"Hey, Eve," Ryan called down to her. "Is Vivian okay?"
"Oh, baby, if you have to ask," Eve shouted back.
Ryan frowned in confusion and turned to his brother who made the pregnant gesture again.
Setting his rifle down quickly to hold both hands up to his chest, palms in, Ryan pulled them in and out alternately.
Whatever.
Picking up his rifle again, Ryan stared down his scope just as a couple of heads bobbed into sight, heading out of the woods opposite the farm lane.
"Got three walking," he warned the others.
Nudging his brother with his elbow to ensure he noticed, Ryan levelled his rifle at the three coming up their lane, sticking to the old oak's.
He spied Delgado come out of nowhere to the group's left, rifle raised. The man moving like a ghost through the tall grass of the yard.
Motioning to his brother to remain in the tree to give him cover, Ryan slipped down from the platform and moved to join Delgado in catching the intruders.
With two rifles coming at them, the three we quick to stop in their tracks, hands up.
"Look, shit," the ginger with the two dollar flat top grunted, "we didn't mean to step on anyone's dick here. Just looking for a mode of transportation."
"You won't find it here," Delgado said. "Best just keep moving."
Ryan smirked at the shaky looking fellow with the mullet who sweated profusely and tried to hide behind the ginger. "Think mullet-head there pissed his pants."
"Jesus fuck, Eugene," the ginger growled.
"It's sweat, I swear," the man stated quickly. "We've been walking a lot."
"It's Georgia in the winter, not that hot," Ryan went on playfully.
"Ryan," Delgado ordered.
The ginger flat-top eyed Delgado quietly, before asking, "you a Marine?"
"Nope," Delgado said. "Keep walking."
"Two more coming at us!" Pace shouted from the tree.
Ryan and Delgado exchanged a quick look, neither one wanting to take their rifles off the newcomers.
"Looks like Daryl and that blond one!" Sid called out.
Relieved it wasn't more strangers, Ryan allowed his eyes to quickly flick up as Daryl and that mouthy one from his group approached, both offering gun cover from the back of the three strangers.
"Hey, these assholes bothering you?" Daryl demanded, holding his crossbow up.
"Not yet."
"Look we just need some fuel or a vehicle and we'll split," the ginger said. "Shit, we'll even trade for a little help."
"Hey!" Cash exclaimed, pointing at the ginger. "You're that dick from the highway!"
The ginger stared at him steadily.
"You were with that one armed man, the Cro-Magnon looking fellow," the mullet-head pointed out.
"Yeah!"
"Still looking for them, huh?" The ginger demanded.
"That's my girl!" Daryl growled.
The ginger leader continued to stare down Daryl's crossbow sights evenly. "Haven't seen her or the fellow she ran off with."
"She didn't run off!" Daryl growled.
"Daryl," Delgado broke in. "It's okay. Best calm down." He looked from Daryl and Cash, to the ginger and his people, to Ryan, before saying. "I suppose we should all have a little meeting here, huh?"
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**Carol**
"Are you going to be okay doing this?"
It was afternoon and the Lieutenant had found time to track her down as she idly wandered the camp, pulling her into an alcove where he told her about his suspicions of the Major-General.
The man smiled easily. "You said it yourself, we might not have to."
"No, but…"
As someone walked by, the man leaned closer to her, forearm on the wall above her head, keeping their conversation confined to the shadows of their little hideaway.
"I don't worry about any of it," he said. "We do what we have to."
She nodded.
"Besides," he added haltingly, as though unsure whether or not to proceed. "Can I tell you something, ange?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"Big secret, yeah?"
"Yes."
The Lieutenant chuckled a little nervously. "I…a long time ago, back before I left Louisiana, there was a young man, named Griffin. Sweet boy, kind of shy, soft spoken, didn't really have too many friends. He was in my high school math class, smart, smart boy.
Anyways, after graduation I worked at this little family run hardware store, filling bins with nails and dumb stuff, and uh, this boy comes in. He was home from college, helping his mama fix her front porch steps, nothing really manly or anything about the job, easy you know. So I offer to help him, he was kind of out of his league, trying to buy roofing nails for the job.
I go over to his house, bag of nails in one hand, my toolbox in the other and this boy is sitting on the porch with his mama, she was sick at the time…cancer. And uh, she was wrapped up, on a hot Louisiana day she was wrapped up and he hovered over her sweetly, getting her cold tea and whatever she needed.
So I set to work on this front step, they had rotted away after so many years of lying in the humid air and the house was…must have been about a hundred years old, older. It had the feel of an ancient site. Like the coliseum in Rome or…Stonehenge, so I tried to honour that craftsmanship, I made sure my steps, the stain afterward matched, everything was done properly. I didn't want that poor woman falling through my steps, so I took care and by the time I was done, it was evening and she had retired to bed early.
This boy, Griffin, he sort shyly approaches me and thanks me, offers me some cold tea and something sweet to eat. I was ravenous. I had missed lunch that day and hard work always starves a man faster.
Now, you must know this boy is pretty. Beautiful really, soft pink lips, big green eyes, freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, dusting each cheek. Long, long lashes, fluttering as he blinked rapidly, nervous.
So we sat on his porch and drank cold tea and I gobbled up all his offered sweets, I think he probably thought me a hog the way I tore into them. We talked about this and that, he wasn't really into sports or anything, so I didn't have to pretend I enjoyed football or that, we discussed politics and art. He seemed pleased that I knew a lot of my literature, must have not really had too many people to talk books with.
When I got up to leave, my Mamere was waiting at home and it was getting dark, he suddenly sort of leaped forward and kissed me.
I was so shocked, that by the time I gathered some words together that would make sense, he was already inside, hiding his little head from me."
Carol blinked up at him, entranced by the story. "What happened after that?"
"Well, I went back the next day, wanted to make sure the steps were working out right and he was okay and…turns out he had always had little thing for me and so that summer we…were lovers until he returned to college and we went our ways."
"Lieutenant, you—"
"It shouldn't matter, it doesn't to me, but down here in the steamy south, it does to a lot of people. Usually the most dangerous ones."
"Are you…gay?"
The man laughed jovially. "I have a wife, ange!"
"I know but—"
"If you have to put a word to how I am, I would say bisexual?"
Carol was unsure of what to do or say. It didn't hit her negatively, this information, but it certainly opened up her eyes.
"It doesn't matter, does it?" He urged, almost pleaded. "It doesn't make me any different. I'm still me and I still adore my girl. She's made me the happiest I have been in a long time. And we'll get home to our loves, yeah?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"And that's all that matters."
"I won't tell anyone."
Leaning down he kissed her temple and smiled broadly. "I know you won't, honeychild. You're so good to me."
"Would you have told anyone this if it wasn't for our situation now?" She asked.
"No."
"Not even Grace?"
He shook his head. "I love my girl, but she would crucify me."
"You think?"
"I know." He pulled away from her and exclaimed, "anyways, I have to get back before they miss me in my supply closet! You be careful today, yeah?"
"Always," she assured him.
"And don't worry, we'll get home."
"Of course." She returned as he wandered off.
Standing in the alcove for a moment, she felt a little dazed by what she just learned. It didn't change things, but it was certainly something. She almost appreciated the Lieutenant more for being so open about his sexuality. If he was that open with it, then it only meant he was a very open minded individual. Still, she wondered if it was hard for him. Harder than he let on.
Carol filed that away for things to mull over at another time, for now she was hell bent on finding that Major Devlin from the night before. He seemed like someone she'd like to talk to.
Wandering the halls of the main building, she searched for an office or something that held any indication of the man from the night before.
He was an officer, so she expected he would be in the main building somewhere behind a pile of – what? – paperwork, she supposed.
"Well, Corporal, when we get the technology to make pigs fly, I'm sure you'll be the first to get new gear," someone said as she stepped off on floor eight, heading down another long, labyrinthine hall of offices. "Until then, duct tape is a wonderous fix-all."
Stopping at the familiar tone of the soft spoken voice, Carol smiled at Colonel Kravitz as a rather miserable looking, scruffy young officer marched past her out of an office.
She pointed to a piece of paper with Colonel Kravitz scrawled on it and smiled. "Found your office."
"And hid his face amid a crowd of stars," the Colonel returned kindly, clasping his clipboard to his chest and returning the smile. "How are you fitting in, Mrs. Vancoughnett?"
"Like a square peg in a round hole." She returned. "That's…Yeats, isn't it?"
Colonel Kravitz merely continued to grin, the left corner of his mouth tugging up a little higher impishly. "What may I help you with, Mrs. Vancoughnett?"
"Can you tell me where Major Devlin's office is?" She asked bluntly.
"Major Devlin?" The man asked.
"Yes."
"He doesn't have an office, at least…he does but you won't find him there."
Carol waited for a moment, before prompting, "where can I find him?"
"So, you've met our Major Devlin, have you?" Colonel Kravitz asked politely, resting his hip against his desk.
"I have," she said cheerfully, hoping to mask her seditious side. "He suggested coming to meet with him about a problem with Lafayette's placement."
"Lieutenant Vancoughnett is unhappy?" Kravitz asked, smile dying.
"He's stuck in a supply closet."
"Of course, Brandt is…a little hard to get along with."
Carol smiled.
"It's almost noon," Kravitz said with another bright, crooked grin, "he'll probably be down in the basement playing dice with the kitchen staff."
"Thank you," Carol said. She meant it, Kravitz seemed a genuine and helpful man, despite her reservations over his loyalties.
"Are you unhappy here, Mrs. Vancoughnett?" He asked as she turned to leave.
Turning back, she found him sombre once more, large hazel eyes filled with concern over her.
"I miss my family." She admitted.
"I'm sorry."
She frowned and stepped in closer to him, "why can't you just let us go?"
Kravitz frowned too. "I'm sorry, we have security—"
"We won't tell anyone anything, just…we just want to go home."
The Colonel reached out with his free hand, before he stopped it halfway to her shoulder, dropping it back at his side.
"Go find Major Devlin, if he said he can help you, maybe he can," he suggested.
Carol nodded and turned to head for the door, pausing there as a thought struck her. "What kind of military man knows Yeats?" She inquired.
Kravitz smiled jovially. "I'm sure Major Devlin will know that," he said. "He seems to know a lot."
"What if," Carol began cautiously, closing the door to the outside world, leaving her alone with the Colonel. "What if I told you that I have a small infant girl waiting for me out there, who needs to feed from my breast? Who'll die without me there?"
Kravitz's dramatic eyebrows puckered and he asked, "is that true?"
"Yes."
She could see him fighting some internal battle, as he looked away from her at a spot on the wall by him.
"I'll take you to Major Devlin," he said softly. "I'm sorry," he added, "I have a little girl of my own and…I can't do much for you. My hands are tied."
Carol nodded.
"But the Major might be able to help you out."
"What does he do around here?" She asked as Kravitz opened the door for them.
"Good question," he replied. "When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know."