Bottles

The three bottles were one hundred yards away. An easy chip-shot for me, and impossible task for Rocky, but for Freckle it was just the right sort of challenge. "Alright, McMurray. Up until now you've had a tommy gun and a revolver. Both are good weapons in the right situation, but this is a real man's gun. I said, pulling out the Springfield.

"I… I don't know if I can do this." Freckle said back, clearly scared. He then leaned in close. "Especially not with Miss Pepper here."

"You'll just have to make do, Freckle. Now, here's your bullet, there's your target. I want to see glass fly in the next few seconds. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay…" He said to himself, taking a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

Grabbing the bullet from me, he loaded it into the rifle, flicked the safety off, and shouldered the rifle. He had excellent form. With real training he'd be at least as good as me with a rifle. Or at least that's what I thought until the cackling started.

"He… Ha, Ha! HAHAHA!" Freckle went nuts and hip-fired the rifle before collapsing in frustration and fear. This time though he wasn't pulling out of it as quickly, which caused Ivy and Rocky to grow concerned.

Not knowing what else to do, I pulled the gun away from the kid and got down on my knees so that he could look at me. "Hey, Freckle. You still in there buddy?"

Now he was starting to cry, partly in frustration but also out of embarrassment. I looked up to Rocky for help, but he was drawing a blank on what to do. Ivy was now very concerned. She hadn't seen Freckle like this before.

"Ah, screw it!" I said to myself and immediately wrapped myself around Freckle like I would Riley when she was upset. I even threw my tail in there for good measure. "Hey, it's okay Freckle. Nothing bad happened. Now come on, shut off the waterworks please. We aren't going to get anywhere if you turn into a sobbing puddle."

"I could feel him heave before getting a hold of himself. "I'm sorry, it's just, I feel—Ah, I can't explain it!" He said out of frustration.

"This isn't easy, Freckle. Rocky couldn't make that shot in a hundred years, and Ivy is liable to break her shoulder using that gun." Both of them seemed to either ignore or shrug off the comment for the sake of their friend.

It took a couple of minutes, but he eventually calmed down and I let go. "Are you good now?"

He nodded "yes".

"Excellent. And just so you know, a range instructor wouldn't do that for you. Now, shoot again."

"What? But I—"

"You missed. Here's your bullet, now shoot again and hit it this time."

"But what if I go crazy again?"

"Then we're going to do the same thing until you either get it right or it gets dark. In which case we're going to come back out here again tomorrow and do the same thing. We need more than one rifleman on our side, Freckle. One day you might save us."

"But—"

"No buts,McMurray. If this happens every time you pick up a gun, we can hardly rely on you to keep us safe, much less yourself. Now hit the target."

With no other option, Freckle took the next bullet in his hand and fed it into the chamber. Closing the bolt, he flicked off the safety again, this time sitting on the ground. Again, he had perfect form. But the cackling started again as well and sure enough he missed the bottle. This time though he didn't break down.

"Well, it's still an improvement. Again."

Miss.

"Again."

Miss.

"Again."

It went on like that for an hour, each shot I could feel the frustration and embarrassment building in Freckle, but sooner or later we were going to have a break through. However, keeping Freckle focused and calm was starting to wear my patience thin. But after the twentieth round, the boy had enough. "I'm done. Sorry, Ethan, I just can't do it."

"McMurray, you don't get to quit in the middle of a firefight! That bottle has been shooting at us and now he's got the chance to get a kill shot in."

"It's just a bottle…" He said, quietly trying to stay calm. I should have foreseen that I was about to reap what I had been sowing for the past hour in a young man with some rather unique emotional issues.

"No, Freckle, it's an enemy! And I need to see you kill it before we can go home."

"No!" Calvin erupted with a fury that surprised everyone. "I'm supposed to be a 'good young lad' for mom, but all I'm doing out here is embarrassing myself! It's hard enough to let you see me like this, but the girl I love is standing right there, watching me make a fool of myself!"

Rocky tried to interrupt before things could spiral. "Woah, take it easy cousin, you'll get better—

"No, Rocky! I'm not getting better! In fact, I'm getting worse! I'm supposed to be a police officer, that's what I was training for. But this? You guys are training me to be your weapon! This, this… anger, it keeps building with every shot! What if I screw up like all those years ago?! What if someone gets hurt?"

"But Freck—"

McMurray got into his cousin's face. Whatever semblance of control Freckle had a moment ago was gone. "I was on the path to a better life, Rocky, then you came crashing back into it! I know you shouldn't have been the one to get kicked out, but…"

I could almost sense what was going to come next. "but sometimes I wish you had stayed away." In an instant the anger was gone, but it was quickly replaced with regret and sadness.

Rocky's ears slumped down. Clearly that hurt. For a moment it looked like Rocky was going to break down too, but at the last second, he pulled something I hadn't seen before. He stiffened his lip, pulled his hat down, and walked away sternly. Freckle, now more embarrassed than before, shot me a glance before walking back to the truck. Ivy and I were left there staring at each other.

"Well that was… scary." Ivy said.

"Are you okay, Miss Pepper?"

"I—I don't know."

"Here, come sit. You look like you're about to fall over anyway."

Ivy slumped down next to me. I instinctively caught her with my arm and held her near me. "It's alright. At least I've got the gun, so no one is getting shot."

"Good." She replied, staring off at Freckle. "You know, I've never seen someone blow up like that."

"I have, once. Shit, Ivy, this is my fault."

"No, it wasn't Ethan. Neither of us knew. I don't even think Rocky knew."

"I think I better talk to Rocky. I'll get back to McMurray when he's calmed down. You just stay here and watch the rifle."

Cousins

After taking a moment, I steeled myself and got up with a groan from stiff muscles, tail twitching from the stiffness. Walking to the edge of the field, I found Rocky sitting on a log, looking out at the truck where he cousin was. As I got close, I could tell his eyes were red. "Hey, mind if I sit?"

Rocky wiped his nose. "Sure." He said quietly. Swinging one leg and then the other over the log, I sat down next to the grey tabby. "Well, that was certainly new."

"Yeah… I didn't know he was holding all that against me." Rocky said. "But it's all true you know, every word."

"You two must have been raised like brothers."

"How can you tell?"

"Because only a sibling could say something like that and still have a relationship."

Rocky didn't give me a reply, so after a minute I made a suggestion. "Why don't we take a bit of a walk. I need to stretch my legs anyway." I got up and reached out my hand. After a moment of hesitation, Rocky grabbed hold and I pulled him up.

Ivy sat there in the grass but didn't want to be alone. In fact, being in the middle of the field by herself was almost frightening. It felt vulnerable, like being in the dorm showers late at night when everyone else was asleep. Sure, she knew she was still safe then, but instincts could never be truly quelled.

The only one she could go to at the moment was Freckle, so she pulled herself from the ground and grabbed the rifle. "Damn, this is heavy!" She remarked. She remembered that night Ethan used it with the bayonet. The weapon in that state was as long as she was tall! Still, despite the heft, she carried the Springfield back to the truck, throwing it into the back.

Walking to the cab, she saw Calvin curled up against the passenger door, looking out at the setting sun. Ivy tapped on the glass to get his attention. Freckle turned his head to see Ivy standing outside, sheepishly waving. She opened the door and climbed into the cab, gently closing the door behind her.

"That was… something, McMurray."

"I feel terrible."

"As you should!" Ivy said sharply. "Rocky screws up a lot, but anyone can tell he loves you!"

"I know…"

"You know, you also let another thing slip during that rant."

"I just remember yelling at Rocky."

"You said you loved me."

That was enough to send Freckle spinning, trying to find an excuse. But he eventually ran out as Ivy leaned in and kissed him. Freckle didn't fight it, and in fact returned the affection for a good minute. After separating, they looked at each other. Freckle was off his feet with love. "Wow, that was…"

"I know, it's a gift. Speaking of, you've got a gift too. You have "perfect form" as Ethan put it."

"I do?"

"Yeah. He seems to think you can hit that bottle. And I think so too. Crazy or not, you have a gift and there are worse ways to use it than to keep our little booze business up and running." Ivy then produced a bullet from her pocket. "Hit the target. If not for Ethan and Rocky, how about for me?"

Walking through the southern pines almost reminded me of Montana. The ponderosa trees grew tall and thick. After a few minutes of silence, I decided to continue our discussion. "You know, not all those words were true."

"Ethan…"

"No, I mean it. You didn't turn him to a life of crime. I can't be certain of the rest because I wasn't around for it, but on that I know for sure."

"I did drag him into it. When I decided to get revenge on those pig farmers, he came with."

"So you did, but all the same, Calvin could have walked away at any time. In fact, that would have been the smart thing to do. But now I see it wouldn't have been the right thing to do."

"The smart thing is not the right thing?"

"Not always, as you've demonstrated, Rocky. The smart thing to do would have been to quit. But like I said earlier today, if you hadn't stuck around the Lackadaisy may well have gone under."

"Still, the rest is true. I'm nothing but a vagabond, Ethan. Hell, I even live in my car, a car I don't own! It's just me and that cactus."

"You haven't gotten rid of it?" I asked.

"Some nights it's my only friend."

"You've got more friends than you know. But that's getting off-topic. My point is, Freckle is ultimately responsible for his decisions, not you. He said those things out of anger and frustration."

"He meant them though, I could tell."

"Of course he did. And when Freckle apologizes, he'll mean that too. That's just how brothers are, even the ones that are really your cousin."

Just then a single rifle shot echoed through the trees. I spun around, instantly recognizing it as a 30 caliber Springfield. "I told Ivy to keep an eye on that thing! We better get back and find out what's going on!"

We ran back through the pines until we came to the forest edge. Two more shots rang out in quick succession. I instinctively dived on top of Rocky, fully certain that we were under attack. But when I looked up, Freckle was at the truck with rifle in hand while Ivy cheered. "The hell?" I said, getting off of Rocky.

As Rocky got up he took note that Ethan had just covered him protectively like he would for a brother in arms. Now it was starting to make sense how Ethan saw him and Freckle.

I ran over to the truck as fast as I could. "Ivy! Why did you let him have the gun?"

She merely pointed across the field. There, a clear 300 yards away, I could see the trio of rocks the bottles had been on.

"What?"

Freckle merely opened the bolt to the rifle then let me see the rear sight, set at 300 yards. "I had to hold it a little over."

"Wait, you mean…"

"He hit all three, Ethan! And didn't go crazy this time."

"But, how?"

"It was Ivy. I guess she just—"

Ivy leaned in and whispered. "I just gave him the right motivation."

"Well I'll be damned…" I was both impressed and gob smacked.

Rocky then walked up beside me. He and Freckle locked eyes. Freckle, in his shame, looked down. Rocky for his part did the same. But then Freckle picked himself up, breathed deeply, and handed me the rifle before grabbing Rocky by the arms.

"Rocky, I'm sorry. Mom never should have sent you away. And you aren't the reason I'm a criminal… mostly."

He then hugged the cat he viewed as a brother. After a moment, Freckle looked back to me.

"And I owe you an apology too, Mr. Kelly."

"Oh?"

"I know you're just trying to teach me. I'm sorry I blew up like that."

"McMurray, you've got a unique problem and while I understand it's frustrating, to explode at everyone else is unacceptable." I said, folding my arms. Freckle lowered his head in shame once again, but then I put a hand on his shoulder before continuing. "But, to hold yourself accountable for your actions is the mark of a man. You didn't make any transgressions that I haven't made before, so you are forgiven."

"And thank you for picking me up when I fall."

"That's what brothers are for Freckle. Now, I want to see you hit that target with my own eyes. Surely you can do it again, right?"

Twenty minutes later we were driving back, and the mood had evened out to a mild disappointment. Rocky and I were in the cab once again. He must not have enjoyed the silence because soon he was wondering out loud. "I don't know what happened. Honestly, Ethan, the conversations we had were magical. I really thought there would be a breakthrough!"

"Well, the inconsistency is worrying. But at least we know your cousin can control himself in the right situation. I just can't believe I gave Freckle another half a box of ammunition and he couldn't replicate the shot."

"Maybe it's stage fright?"

"I don't know. But we'll keep working on it as time allows."

The cab fell back into silence as darkness overcame the valley. Looking ahead I could see the distant lights of the city, like a massive beacon guiding us home. After staring out at the darkening fields for a good minute I looked back toward the western horizon through the rear window. I could see Ivy and Freckle in each other's arms, clearly enjoying their time together and the passing scenery.

A Date?

It must have been an hour later, but Rocky and I eventually found the right address. Pulling up to the curb, I climbed out of the cab and walked up to the door, hoping that Isabella wasn't going to be mad that we were out later than I had thought. Knocking on the door, illuminated only by the porch light, I soon heard footsteps. The door creaked open and a young lady who was certainly not Isabella answered the door.

"Oh, you must be Ethan! Hang on, just a sec…" She then turned around to shout back into the house. "Bella, your boyfriend is here!"

"What?" I asked. All I got in return was a laugh, but soon enough Isabella came trotting up to the door, cheeks as red as the morning dawn. Apparently, I wasn't the only one getting prodded for questions, poor woman.

"You're late, Ethan."

"Sorry, I'll take you on a nice long date in return. That was the deal, wasn't it?"

"Indeed, mister. But I had a lot of fun, really. Riley is a brilliant girl, I'm sure you're proud."

"I'm sure our parents would be prouder. But she wasn't any trouble?"

"Of course not! At least no more so than any other kid I've had to watch. I'm sure you'll hear all about our day, so I'll spare you the details."

Just then Riley came up to the door. "Bye Isabella! Thank you for showing me around town!"

"Anytime, Riley." Isabella said, waving at the girl as she made her way to the waiting truck.

"Again, thank you. I'm serious, you want a date, money, whatever you need, just say so. If she can get caught up to the rest of the class, it will be worth every minute."

Isabella looked slightly disappointed by this remark. "Well, I hope you know, Mr. Kelly, I'd like to go beyond a transactional relationship."

"Oh, I—I see. So your roommates weren't just teasing then about the whole 'boyfriend' thing?"

"They were, I'm just not opposed to the idea."

"In that case, how does Saturday at six sound? I'll have something better than that heap of junk to pick you up in."

"A date it is, Mr. Kelly."

Riley sat between Rocky and me as we putzed back to the Lackadaisy. Poor girl didn't last five minutes and now she was tucked under my arm, asleep to the hum of a straight six. The street lights could almost illuminate the streets, but there was no shortage of people testing their luck and Rocky's patience as they crossed in front of us. The truck headlights were nothing to write home about.

Finally, we turned down the alley and pulled into the garage. As Rocky shut down the truck, I carried my sister out over my shoulder. Getting heavier every year, but for the moment I could still get her up two flights of stairs without a hernia. As I stepped out, I heard the truck door close followed closely by the back door of the sedan opening. Rocky was arranging his nightly bedding, an old pillow and blanket. He even took care to prop that monstrosity of a cactus up on the seat where it would be out of the way… but forever watching… I'd seen a lot of things, but that damn plant was right up there with the scariest stuff.

"You know, Rocky, sleeping on the rumble seat can't be good for the back."

Rocky shrugged his shoulders. "Marcus Aurelius found the floor to be surprisingly comfortable, as did the philosophers of the age. At least that's what Zib told me. Surely the backseat of a car would suffice."

"The ancient Stoics probably slept on the floor because if they had mattresses, they'd be full of fleas. And as for Zib, he would certainly sleep on a mattress if he could afford it. But suit yourself, just know there's a couch upstairs if you want it. And a better blanket."

Putting Riley to sleep, I collapsed on said couch, letting the day unwind before me. Working in a mine was more grueling, but what we did today was surely more dangerous. Perhaps a farmer was the right occupation? I imagined that future. Tilling the soil, living humbly as a steward of crops, only going to war with the crows in the summer and deer in the fall. Money wouldn't be much of a worry if I could own the place outright. Make sure no bank could ever pull the rug out from under me. But that future, even if it came to pass, was a long way off.

Just then I heard a light knock on the door. Opening it, I looked out to see exactly who I expected. There he was exhaustion finally taking its toll. But Rocky, despite his five-foot-six frame, still stood tall. I couldn't tell where the optimism ended, and the pride started. Still, even no one should be left out like a stray dog.

"Bout time. Come on, I was about to make food anyway."

We both sat there after a while, a large bowl of beans and bacon for each of us. I could tell Rocky wasn't quite as content with the meal as I was. "Pancakes are better."

"Good thing you weren't put in the army then, because pancakes were as rare in France as gougeres are over here."

"Swindlers? They're quite common in St. Louis. Just as common as those folks who tried to rob me when we were looking for Zib."

"No, 'gougeres'. It's a cheese pastry- you know what, I'm too tired to explain. Point is beans and bacon are a staple of the working man… and soldiers."

"You ate these every day?"

"Well, every other day. And this was the good food. We only had canned food when on the front line or pushing into enemy territory. That stuff was horrible, but as the old lyric goes 40 miles a day on beans and hay in the regular army 'o."

I suppose Rocky couldn't help himself, but he began softly humming that tune as we finished our bowls. Admittedly, it wasn't the greatest dinner ever, but it would suffice. It then occurred to me that no one had checked Rocky's bandages. "Hey, as long as you're here in the apartment, I should clean out that wound again, don't want an infection."

Without a word, Rocky leaned his head down so that I could take off the bandages. As they came off, I could see that the stitches were doing their job well and the flesh was beginning to close up the hole, but fresh cloth was needed and, of course, a good scrubbing.

As I gathered the needed supplies, it also occurred to me that Rocky sleeping in the car and what Freckle had let out earlier in his frustration were probably related.

"Not that I want to pry, but what Calvin said earlier today had me thinking. What, exactly, happened that got you the boot? I only ask because its strange that you've got an aunt and cousin not too far away, yet you sleep in the back of the sedan."

"Oh, that. What occurred wasn't my fault, or at least that's the way Freckle sees it. He blames himself. But being the golden child, the innocent one, it would have been unfathomable for the lad to be handed down a harsh punishment when the reality is I would have been blamed regardless."

"So, what happened?"

"You know how Freckle gets when he has a gun in his hands? Well, I made the mistake of giving him one on a fall afternoon. I got the stupid thing from a friend. He was doing well, at first. But with every shot he became more and more unhinged. We didn't know someone was beyond the bottles he was shooting at."

"Jesus, no wonder he couldn't handle shooting the bottles I gave him. I didn't know he killed someone!"

"Oh, no, the guy was wounded but he lived. Still, shooting someone is a grievous offense to anyone, but to a devout catholic woman? It may as well have been mass murder! Aunt Nina demanded we fess up about who was shooting the gun, and she made it clear that whoever it was, they'd be on a train far away very soon. So, without much choice, I stepped forward and lied. The next few years I bounced around from Illinois to California. I was even in Butte once! But everywhere I went, people didn't much care for me. Not until I finally came back and found my way into the service of Miss M."

"Well Rocky, you don't have to sleep in the car anymore, just come up here instead."

"You mean that?"

"I do." I then tied up the fresh bandages, being sure to keep his hair out of the wound.

I went into my room as Rocky took off unneeded clothing, stripping down to his drawers. That ratty old blanket he brought up was as thin as a rag and looked just about as comfortable, so I grabbed the spare one hanging off the end of my footboard.

"Here, if you've strayed this far from the stoics then you should probably have a decent blanket too."

He didn't say anything, but genuinely looked grateful. At the same time, I felt a stirring of my soul. It had been Riley and me for months now, and for several years Mom hadn't really said or done much besides drink wine and stare blankly out a window. I was remembering how it felt to be part of a family again.