A Father Returns

Few things scared Viktor, but after two days of contemplation, trying to get the words right, he was finally standing in front of the address. Just a short walk from the street was a little house on the quiet outskirts of Quincy. Inside were the two loves of his life, and one reason why he had played the game for so long. Too long, if you ask some. All that stood between him and his family was a door, and the anxiety of not having seen either. Would they even recognize the broken, beaten, and battered man standing outside?

Part of him had reasoned that he wouldn't even live to see this moment again. It certainly felt that way on the worst days. Mordecai's betrayal could have killed him. There had been many close calls before that, but that particular night hurt in more ways than just physically. The latest wound, and the reason why he was using a cane, or "shillelagh" as Ethan called it, was still fresh. Most of the pellets were gone though and the wound was largely superficial by now, having been a week and a half of recovery. Still, the burning in his side from a remaining pellet forced him to fortify himself with another swig of medicine. He'd have to be careful not to get addicted.

Unscrewing the cap, Viktor noticed that his hands were shaking. The last time they trembled was the first time he had gone over the top in 1917. Somehow the simple act of walking to that door was having the same effect on him as charging into no-man's land. "Time to get this over with." He thought to himself as he put the bottle away. Steeling himself for what could possibly be the greatest rejection of his life, Viktor limped up to the house, climbing the steps. He was now standing right on the threshold, the "welcome" sign just above his head. Was he welcome? Or were strangers more welcome to this house than a one-eyed monster?

He decided to run through his options once more in his head. "My love, I'm home." No, too simple. "Moja nevesta, môžem vstúpiť?" She knows the language, but that might not be the right thing to say. "Vrátil som sa k vám." Nah, too matter of fact. Damn, this was hard! Maybe he should rehearse some more and come back later? But as Viktor mulled the decision over in his head, he could hear her approach. After all these years, he knew the sound of that voice, as sweet to the ears as honey is to the tongue and wildflowers to the eyes.

Before he could react, the door knob turned, and it slowly opened. Viktor was frozen in fear as her figure came into view. It took her a moment to realize that someone was at the door, and his long-suffering wife almost bumped into Viktor before seeing him at the last second. She gasped, taking a step back. Viktor couldn't tell, was it fear in her eyes? Anger? Shock? They both stood there, not saying a word.

"Mom, what is it?" A younger voice called before the sound of footsteps came up from behind the woman. Viktor looked down and locked eyes with a face that had grown so much, looking so much like him. Eyes that were like his when he was young.

"dcérou?"

Questions

Rocky, despite not appearing to pay a lick of attention to the road, was surprisingly good at keeping all four wheels on the pavement. The speeding was a little much, but there was a lot to do and not much time to do it. I only told him to be careful near the intersections because getting pulled for driving recklessly would have problematic consequences for all of us involved. Not that it seemed to sink in because on the way to Nina's house all the talk seemed to revolve around the newest item for gossip and teasing, Isabella. I think I was starting to get an inkling as to what Viktor put up with when the two started talking at once because the questions were coming at me faster than machine gun fire. And unlike bullets, it was much harder to dodge a personal question.

"Who was that woman?" "Why were you two looking at each other like that?" "Are you in love?" "Rocky, I think Ethan actually found someone!" "Did you tell her yet about what we do?" "How long ago did you meet her? You're already trusting her with Riley." "I think I remember seeing her on campus, what program is she in?" "Are you bringing her down to the speakeasy for a date?" "Ooh, where are you going to take her on a date? I want to see it!" "You know, pancakes have a certain romantic quality all their own." "No, Rocky, Ethan's not going to make her pancakes for a date! But don't worry, Ethan, we'll think of a great venue for you two." "Ooh, I wonder if we can get Mitzi to take their picture?" "Ethan, do you need to borrow the struggle buggy for a night? Just let me know, I'll get it all cleared out for you two to—"

Looking out the window at the cars and pedestrians passing by, I contemplated just bailing out right then and letting the first car or buggy flatten me. Anything but this! But just as I reached for the handle, I looked ahead and saw Nina's house down the block.

"Enough with the questions! Rocky, we've arrived."

"Oh, right. Better pull the truck off to the curb a little way away. His typewriter is in the back, right?"

"Yep, in the case. Also got a couple other toys to play with later." I replied as Rocky exited the truck. Leaning into the window, he stuck his thumb out down the block.

"Just stay here, shouldn't take too long." Rocky then moved with surprising velocity toward the front door of the house a couple hundred yards away. Sighing, I glanced to my left and nearly jumped out of my fur as a couple of large eyes belonging to Ivy were glued to me. "So, are you going to sit there silently, or let me in on the what's what of this new girl you fancy?"

"It's that obvious, huh?" I asked, which Ivy nodded in reply.

"Alright, fine. Her name is Isabella—"

"I know that silly, I asked her when she was waiting for you to get Riley."

"—and I met her at Forest Park. I guess neither of us were watching where we were going, and we bumped into each other."

"ooh, this is like one of those romance novels I've read! Then what!"

"And that's pretty much it so far. Isabella is studying to become a teacher at your university."

"Aww… but surely there's more to the story than that!"

"Sorry Ms. Pepper, but that's about it at the moment." Just then I saw some orange fur leaving the porch of Nina's home with Rocky in tow. Time to turn the tables. "Now, Ivy, as for your boyfriend, it occurs to me that we can't fit three grown men and a young lady in the cab of this farm truck. How does the straw-covered bed sound?" I pointed with my eyes to the back of the truck. It took her a second to register the idea, but quickly got it. A smile spread across her face, partly excited and partly sinister with her intentions.

"Go on, we'll surprise the boy."

As Rocky and Freckle approached the truck, Freckle noted that Ethan was standing outside the driver's door chewing on a long strand of hay. There was also a distinct lack of Ivy. Maybe the others had the common sense to not bring her with them?

"Hey Rocky, I thought you said Ivy was coming?"

Rocky immediately caught onto our little game. "Oh don't fret cousin. Ethan did bring along some toys that go boom though. Your typewriter is in there as well."

"Freckle, glad to see the other night didn't scare you off the job."

"Well, I, um…" And that's about all I could get out of him before the boy started twiddling his thumbs and looking down.

"Hey, you did a good job. And luckily, the only injury of the night was this little gem here." I then pointed at the small hole that went clean through my right ear.

"Geez, doesn't it hurt?" Calvin asked.

"A little, but no worse than a piercing. If teenage girls can handle it, so can I."

"So, uh, what are we doing today? Just target practice?" The ginger cat asked.

"Oh, didn't Rocky tell you? Apparently, we did such a good job clearing out competition that we should be able to sneak in another run or two from the Arbogast's. So it looks like we're headed back to Defiance."

"That's quite the drive."

"Indeed, but lucky for you, McMurray, you get the best seat in the truck." I said while slapping the wooden rails of the bed.

"What, I can't sit in the cab with you two?"

"Sorry." Rocky apologized. "But three's a crowd in the cab. Shifter is right in the middle too, so let's just say that every time I need a new gear, we'd be a little too close for comfort, seeing as we're cousins and all." Rocky finished explaining while dropping down the tailgate.

"Besides, Freckle, it'll be more comfortable in this summer heat. Now get to steppin', we don't have all day." I said as I climbed in through the driver's door. Freckle climbed up onto the tail gate and settled in next to the rear window as Rocky closed up the bed latches.

"Rawr!" Ivy jumped out of the stray, tackling the boy and sending him into a momentary panic.

"Missed you." Ivy said, looking down at her prey. Even through his fur, she could see his face was turning red.

"Uh, hi, again, Ms. Pepper…"

I knocked on the glass and shouted through it. "You didn't think we'd actually leave our master negotiator behind, do you?" It was obvious to everyone that Freckle wasn't going to complain. "Now, why don't you two enjoy a romantic hay ride while the tactician and sharpshooter discuss business?"

Rocky took a moment to stop at the door to the truck. "Gonna drive off in the struggle-buggy with your snuggle-bunny—" I pulled him in the cab by the collar before he could continue. "Come on Rocky, let's go to work and let the kids have some privacy…" Of course, I could still clearly see through the rear window as we pulled away from the curb. "Sort of."

Like a Brother

The dust rolled off in a large plume as we cruised down the backroads to Defiance. Looking in the mirror I could see our cloud reach up into the sky, moving like a mighty wave over the young, green cotton and the feral rye. Coming out of the bottomlands of the river valley we gained altitude, meandering into the hills and bluffs covered in groves of oak, some trees looked old enough to recall the days of the native people camping in their shadows. Of course, these days the landscape had been changed dramatically. CM Russell no doubt was sad to see how the prairie around his home city had been torn up under hoof and plow. But while he found his life in the Judith Basin, I was finding mine hundreds of miles downstream. Perhaps the water passing by us in the Missouri was the same that coursed through the canyon east of Helena when we left weeks ago? Or perhaps it still had some ways to go?

"So, Ethan, about this new girl…" Rocky continued from earlier.

"Oh great, not again. Fine, what is it?" I replied, rolling my eyes at the annoyance of having to go through this again.

"Did you tell her about your job?" He asked.

"For the moment, all Isabella knows is that I work as a cook in the café. Unlike Ivy, I'll try to keep it that way until I can trust her with the knowledge of our real job."

"Good, good." Rocky replied, nodding along in approval. Unfortunately, curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to ask more questions. "Was there another?"

"Another what?" I asked right back. I knew what he meant but didn't much feel like sharing.

"Oh, you know, back in Montana?"

"Well, I suppose there's a girl or two who could count. But it's hard to explain. I haven't felt quite the same way about anyone before."

"I certainly wish I was that lucky. But it's hard enough just to keep friends that tolerate me."

"Rocky, people who merely tolerate you aren't friends."

Maybe it was the tone of my voice, or the realization that he had been telling himself that lie just to keep his spirits up, but Rocky grew sullen in that moment. "I know it's a tough pill to swallow Rocky, but if it's any consolation, I rather like having you around."

"Like a brother…" Rocky said under his breath, but even my wounded ear could pick it up. "What was that?"

"Oh, Riley the other day said you see Freckle and me as brothers."

I cursed myself for letting that comment run away from me. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, but I suppose it isn't too far off the mark. Liam, he was quiet like Freckle, but just as brave."

"Freckle? Brave?" Rocky raised one of his large eyebrows.

"You don't see it? No offense, Rocky, but I get the feeling you don't always act knowing the consequences."

"Heh, so you did notice…"

"But Freckle, he fully knows what would happen if any of us got hurt, yet there he is in the back of the truck, ready at a moment's notice to do what must be done. He would have done well in the trenches, not that I would ever wish that on anyone. And as for you—"

"I know, I am worthless. Limp arms, can't shoot, always screwing up…"

"Those things are true to a point, but I was going to say that while you're impulsive, you're also brilliant. A natural strategist, and always having something clever or funny to say. That's Sean to a tee."

I smile then found its way back onto Rocky's face. "So yes, I guess it's not that much of a stretch to say it. And if anyone, whether it be a woman, or that arrogant Mordecai, or anyone who says otherwise, just know that you do have a place at Lackadaisy. I reckon it would have fallen apart already if not for you."

Now it was Rocky's turn to shed a tear, but in gratitude. "Anyway, Mr. Strategist, shall we work out a plan to score Miss M another load of the good stuff?"

Bobby was pulling the hearse into the barn after having held a funeral for one of the local farmers. Old Johnson had finally met his match with a bout of pneumonia. Even though he wasn't quite the same faith as Abelard, Elsa's brother still did his duty. A plume of dust caught Bobby's eye and he looked out across the fields to see a familiar old truck. "Bullocks, they're back…" He muttered, shaking his head.

Renegotiations

When we rolled up the driveway, the three of them were already on the porch. "Hey Rocky, might not want to flaunt that hat and coat. You never knew who was watching."

Pulling up, Ivy and Freckle stuck their heads out of the back as Rocky and I exited.

Bobby had his arms crossed. "And just what, do you kids think you're doing?"

"Yes." Abelard hissed. "I recall the terms of our deal being as ironclad as the commandments."

"Oh pish posh, minister, just like most things in the good book, it's all in how things have been interpreted."

"Blasphemy, young Kelly!"

"Don't believe me? Then take it up with the Pope." I shot back.

"Besides, we aren't here to talk about faith. Only spirits." Rocky added.

Sighing, Elsa turned to go inside. "I'll make tea."

"Dear, please, these aren't guests." Bobby tried to explain, but he was starting to get the feeling that his wife was right, as usual.

"Look, if our proposal doesn't sit well with you then we'll leave, for good this time." I wagered. "But it's been a long drive and I'd like to at least stretch my back out before getting into that seat. It's worse than a Catholic pew in an old Montana mission."

"Fine. May as well get you inside anyway before some agents see you."

I hadn't been inside the farmhouse, nor had Freckle. Rocky didn't seem to remember much of it, but Ivy already had the whole place mapped out in her head. As we sat around the table, Abelard seemed to shoot us all daggers from his eyes, but Bobby had apparently come around to at least hosting some uninvited guests. Soon Elsa had tea passed around for us all. It wasn't exactly my kind of drink, but it would have been impolite to refuse.

Bobby finally decided to pop the question. "Alright then, what's the proposal?"

Ivy didn't want to immediately jump into business though. "Wait, you aren't even going to ask how we got out alive?"

"Like I said last week, we're fine, and you're fine. What's not fine is why I've got some gangsters in my kitchen." Bobby replied.

Rocky then jumped into the discussion. "Well, sir, as you can see, we are still in business. Your clients, the Marigolds, met a rather unfortunate end in the dark and rain."

"Yes, we heard in the papers." Abelard replied. "Two dead from a car crash, two missing."

"No, four murdered." I clarified. "And in a stroke of brilliance, Rocky hatched a plan that eliminated some competition for us just last night."

"Point is, sirs, we reckon that you've got some stock that you'd be happy to unload because it will be a while before Marigold gets someone out here." Ivy added.

"And, if you recall, our stock was stolen by some local ruffians. That was our story when two other agents came by to check on things. If our stock keeps getting stolen, then we're liable to be buried in our own caskets." Bobby explained, hoping that would settle the matter.

"Nonetheless, you do have stock, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes." Elsa replied, knowing where this was going before her husband or brother.

"And, at the moment, you're short on customers. Thanks to Freckle over there and a Springfield rifle I found in our store-room—"

"Wait, you found a Springfield?" Bobby asked.

"Indeed, and you best believe I can kill anyone with a Marigold on their coat from a thousand paces."

"So, the soldier found his rifle. No wonder you lot were able to beat the odds. Fine I guess if you're in the killing business again, I suppose we might need to unload something for you." Bobby replied.

Ivy seized the opportunity. "Excellent! So how much do you think you can slip us unnoticed?"

"Oh, a few boxes. I guess there's always some that get broken in the shipping. But we can't risk having you kids out here again. Someone is going to notice that car and then all of us are going to have a pretty bad time."

"How about enough to fit in a coffin?" Rocky asked, surprising all of us.

"What kind of question is that?" Abelard said, confused. "You're letting the one with brain damage make the plans?"

"Hey, it's worked so far." Ivy replied. "But that is a fair question. What does a coffin have to do with this, Rocky?"

"Easy, Ms. Pepper. The Arbogast's run a funeral home. So why not load bottles of liquid gold into one and bury it in a cemetery near town?"

"That… might work." Ivy commented.

"Oh, so in addition to your litany of sins and crimes you children also want to add grave robbing to the marks against your souls?" Abelard accused.

"Now, I wouldn't exactly call it graverobbing, minister." Rocky reasoned. "Is it really a grave if the only thing in it is a few boxes of booze?"

"That still leaves the question of payment." Bobby was looking for any excuse to back out.

"Oh, that part is easy." I replied. "A nice donation in the coffers on Sundays ought to do the trick. With my sister in tow no one would suspect a thing. Heck, I'll even let the good servant of the lord here cleanse my soul for free."

"There is no Earthly force that can cleanse your soul, Mr. Kelly." Abelard snorted.

"Aww, but I thought revival ministered loved a challenge?" I said with a wink.

"No, the church is too small anyway. But one of you could drop off your payment at the funeral home. Just rotate yourselves so that its less suspicious. As long as you drive that truck out here no one will pay any mind." Bobby suggested, seemingly coming around to the idea.

"Now that's a plan I can get behind." Rocky said, excitedly. "We're errand boys, anyway, driving out to your funeral home would just be one of many tasks we take care of every week."

"Good, but there is still one more thing to consider. How would we find out what grave?"

"Just check the paper. I learned codes in Europe." Elsa said.

"So we're settled now? Solid enough plan, keeps us from interacting directly. We at least unload the extra stock Marigold has abandoned." Bobby surmised. "We've got a deal then?"

"Indeed, sir." Rocky said, putting his hand out for a shake. As we were cleaning up, Elsa noticed a car rolling in. "Looks like we've got company."

"Who is it, sister?" Abelard asked, concerned.

"Marigolds. You all need to hide, now!" Elsa ordered.

Grieving for Mr. Johnson

In an instant I was panicking. "That isn't going to work, they'll want to know who was driving the truck?"

"Crap, and our munitions are in the back of the Dodge." Rocky remembered.

Then I had an idea. "Rocky, Freckle, you boys make for the field out back. Don't be seen. Ivy, you're with me."

"With you? Why?"

"Because I need someone who can cry on command."

The agents pulled up to the house. "Huh, I wonder whose truck that is?" Slim wondered.

"Don't know but be ready. They say that there's a ghost out here hunting Marigold agents. Someone has been trying to muscle their way into our territory." John replied.

"Truck looks local. Wasn't that guy from Chicago in town looking for a truck?"

"Yeah, but there are a lot of trucks. All the same, be ready for anything."

Getting out of the car, the two instinctively kept one hand each near their concealed weapons. Walking up to the porch, the two stopped as the door opened. Anticipating a possible ambush, John pulled the hammer back on his revolver. But instead of meeting a hail of gunfire, they were instead greeted with a grieving woman and a saddened man trying to remain stoic.

"Bless you, father, truly. It was a good funeral for Mr. Johnson." I said trying to look the part.

"And you take care, my son. For you and your grieving bride." Abelard replied while Bobby kept his head down and Elsa massaged his shoulders.

"Hey, what's all this?" Slim asked, clearly confused.

I looked behind me. "Oh, I didn't know you were expecting company, Father Arbogast. We should be headed home anyway."

"And where's home?" John asked, clearly suspicious. Fortunately, Ivy was giving a performance worthy of a Photoplay award. Her sobbing relaxed the two agents. I decided to improvise.

"A funeral home rarely has happy guests, gentlemen. I assume you two must have lost someone recently and need to discuss arrangements with Bobby."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Discussing arrangements is certainly what we're here for." Slim replied. Both of us were lying through our teeth, but if they didn't figure out my lies, we'd all walk away breathing.

Meanwhile, a grey tail kept popping up in the corn field behind the house. Freckle kept trying to grab Rocky's tail to keep themselves hidden. "Just like old times, eh. Freckle?"

"Old times is exactly what I'm worried about. This rarely went well for us as kids, and it's a lot harder to stay hidden now that we're grown up."

"Come on, cousin, the road is this way. We just need to follow the row down to the end of the field."

Back at the house, I tried ushering a still-sobbing Ivy past the two agents. "Well gentlemen, we certainly won't hold you up with your business."

"Please, send our regards to the young lady's family. Pneumonia took my own father a few years ago." John explained.

"I'll be sure to pass it along, come now dearest, it's been a long day for us both."

As we climbed into the truck, Ivy kept up the act. Turning the key, all I got was sputtering for a couple of seconds. Fear coursed through my veins, any second and we could be in deep trouble.

"Starter giving you trouble, sir?" Slim asked, leaning into the window.

"Yeah, but the old girl has a crank around here somewhere." I said, reaching down around the floor.

I was struggling to find it, which Slim must have thought suspicious because I sensed him tense up. Was he thinking I was going to come up with a shotgun or something? Ivy, now wiping her eyes, kicked the crank over to me and I caught it in my hand. "Ah, here's the little devil!" I said, revealing the rusty tool.

The two agents watched my every move as I got the crank wound up. Hopping back in, the old Dodge fired up and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Might want to get that fixed." John suggested. "Looks like you got some damage to the front."

"Oh, yeah, those dang deer tend to jump out of nowhere. Can't be too careful on these roads. Anyway, you gentlemen take care." I slammed the truck into first and rolled it forward in a half-loop praying that they wouldn't see the guns in the back. Luckily, the straw had covered them up during the ride.

John and Slim returned to their business. "I take it you gentlemen just got done with a funeral?" John questioned.

Bobby nodded. "Yes, indeed. Old Johnson passed away. That young couple were his granddaughter and her new husband."

"That's too bad." Slim said. "Anyways, shall we discuss the next shipment?"

"Indeed, please, come in. I'll have Elsa make another batch of tea, or coffee if you'd prefer?"

Rolling down the driveway, Ivy dropped the act. Looking over at her, I could see her body shudder with adrenaline. Turns out those tears weren't completely fake.

"You okay, Ms. Pepper?"

"Yes, now I am. That could have gone wrong so easily though."

"Well, that tends to be the case when improvising."

"What if they had caught us?"

"I probably would have shoved you out of the way and went for John. He had his gun cocked."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"There was a little bulge under his Marigold flower, right where the hammer of his revolver would be. If I could have wrestled control of the gun, then I could have shot the other agent before he reacted. The other one, Slim, he's not disciplined in shooting. A lot jumpier than the other one."

"I see… Well, I hope the boys got out."

"If they didn't, it's on them. We must have stalled those two for a couple minutes at least. Now, let's head west and pick them up at the end of the field."

Sure enough, when we got to the end of the fence line and out of sight of the house, Rocky jumped out of the ditch to wave us down. Rolling to a stop, I pointed to the back of the truck and the two cousins immediately found themselves a spot in the straw. At least now we could get back to business. Our latest run-in with the Marigolds made it all the more important to get Freckle some real training.

As the two agents concluded their business, John was sure to issue a warning. "And remember, gentlemen. Your business is with Marigold and Marigold alone. You don't want to know what will happen if we find out you've been selling to the competition."

Bobby put his hands up in a calming motion. "Oh, we've been warned by plenty of agents, your bosses have made their demands very clear. Truth is, we're glad you stopped by. We hadn't heard from anyone for over a week."

"Yes, there was an incident of sorts…" John explained. "But we've got plenty of agents to spare. Just let us know if anyone causes you some trouble and we'll be sure to take care of them."

"Only trouble out here is some of the local kids. But we straighten them out ourselves just fine."

"Very good, now we had better be off."

Getting in the car, John put the car into drive and started heading back to town. Slim was curious as to why they were headed back so early. "Don't we have other suppliers to make contact with?"

"Yes, but they can wait until morning. Whoever is out here, this… boogeyman, he lurks in the shadows of the trees. I don't want to be caught out here at night lest we meet the same fate."

"Don't you think that's a bit paranoid? It's not unheard of to get in a car wreck out here. Besides, that night it was torrential rain."

"True, but if someone is trying to muscle into our turf, I suspect they are pretty close by."

"What makes you think that?"

"Did you notice how many teacups Bobby's broad had?"

"No, I didn't."

"Seven. Seven teacups. We only saw five people in that house."