words might be more or less all right, but the body language is all wrong. Let them go or I'm going to arrest you and have you locked up."
Jaws dropped all around the room.
To everyone's surprise, she complied.
Released from her clutches, the children ran for comfort in more motherly arms.
"Well, if the kids need my help and don't get it, let it be on your head," she sniffed at Trevin.
"Gladly," he replied. "I can't stick around, so I'm going to issue a temporary restraining order. Pastor, if she grabs anyone under the age of discretion, have some of the ladies haul her down to the lockup. Or send for the sentries. Just make sure she gets locked up if she won't back off, because there's no reason to make a bad situation worse, if we don't have to."
"Young man, I do not like it when you have me locked up," Sandra said, sternly.
"In that case, stop being criminally intrusive," he said. "Now leave me alone. I need to get over to Lt. Ott with a report, and notify next of kin, and I've got to get the info gathered."
She started to protest, but gave it up when Trevin shot her a look to say he wasn't joking.
"He's actually had you locked up for being a busybody?" someone asked her.
"Five times! And his brothers have done it, too. They're incorrigible, the lot of them," Sandra said, with feeling. She seemed confused by the reaction of people around her, but salved her self-righteousness by flouncing off, her enormous frame quivering with indignation.
"If I get to heaven, I just might ask God how he wanted me to deal with maiden aunts. I'm pretty sure I haven't figured it out yet," Trevin said as an aside to Anthony.
Anthony gave him a men-sharing-the-same-foxhole look, and then they split up, doing what they needed to do, according to their separate duties.
Trevin was thorough, but quick. When he had what he needed, he asked Scott's mom if he could borrow the young man to help him. He didn't need the help, but he didn't want to have it on his head that he'd undercut a young man who'd been trying to step up and do a man's job. It took a bit of persuading on his part, because Scott's mom was by now thinking that perhaps she should just let the nice, grown man, all dressed up in a uniform and on duty, do the job himself, while she kept her precious boy close to her during her time of distress. Trevin wasn't having any of it, though, and Anthony had his back, so soon Trevin and Scott were off on their doleful mission.
Partway across, Trevin had a hunch that he might have made a mistake, or at least something akin to a mistake.
"Hold up a minute, Scott, I need to fix my boot. While I'm at it, I'm going to give my feet a quick airing, so I won't get blisters," he said. He sat on the ground and yanked his boots and socks off, and suggested the boy do the same. As he'd guessed, the boy's feet were tender looking. That meshed with his labored breathing. The poor lad was simply not used to taking even short hikes, and here he was, on a several mile jaunt.
There was no doubt in Trevin's mind that Scott's mom would like for him to send the child back now, and spare him the ordeal, especially since there were men around to take over for him, and all the more so because it was a sadness-laced task.
"How old are you, Scott? Sixteen?" Trevin asked.
"Nearly that, sir."
"How nearly?"
"I'm fourteen, sir."
"You aren't much used to taking hikes, are you?"
"No, sir. If I'm holding you up, I'm sorry. You could go on without me, if it's what's right for Mr. Alcorn, sir."
Trevin's heart got bigger than he'd planned for it to do. "I doubt it will come to that. I'm sure you can do this, Scott," he said.
The boy gave him a look that clearly said, "Really?"
"Let's get our shoes back on, and get going," Trevin said. "The Alcorn kids are in good hands, but they'll be wanting their daddy in good order."
Scott got a look of grim determination on his face, and hustled his shoes back on. But there was an overlay of something else, fresh pain that Trevin wasn't sure how to interpret. When they got walking again, he said, "You and Mr. Alcorn have been friends a while, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir. He's friends with my whole family."
"Yeah, but you and he do stuff together, build stuff, fix things, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't think I've seen your dad in a while. Did he get transferred, or are our schedules just way off each other?"
"He's at Nyssatun, sir."
Trevin turned that over in his head. It didn't make sense that a man would move to a nearby civilian community but not take his family with him, all the more so since Nyssatun was one of those isolated communities that centered its existence on making sure there were people held in reserve should everybody else in the underground get wiped out.
The boy's face turned red. "You might not have heard, because people are trying to be nice about it, but Dad moved there to be with his girlfriend."
"I'm sorry. Dads aren't supposed to do stuff like that, but sometimes some of them do inexcusable things. Moms, too. Let's forget about it for now, and concentrate on helping Mr. Alcorn, shall we?"
"Yes, sir."
"Unless you want to talk about your dad."
"No, sir. I'd rather not."
"OK, but one more thing, just so you don't get blindsided. It's against the law for a man to desert his responsibilities. There's a very real chance your dad could spend time in jail before this is all over."
"I know. I think that's why Mom's trying to pretend it's not happening."
"For what it's worth, I have relatives who have spent time in jail."
Scott smiled. "Is Miss Wister really your aunt?"
"I'm afraid so. And I wasn't thinking about her. I was thinking of the cousins who have indulged in robbery, mugging, that sort of thing. It's an embarrassing family to come from, mine is, except for my brothers. The good news is, down here people let you rise above your relatives. Most people, anyway. Some people won't. I gave up worrying about them, though. There's no point to it."
Scott gave him his "really?" look.
"Yes, really," Trevin said. He cocked his head. He put his finger to his lips and listened.
Footsteps.
"We have company," he said. "Let me do the talking, if we do any talking."
This section of tunnel was lopsidedly lit by electric lights powered by waterflow generators hidden deep down in the Snake River. The shadow of the man came around the bend before the man did. Trevin was still thinking it-can't-be when Adrian Alcorn came into view. Everything in his body language said he was just a man walking home after a decent day's work, with no clue that anything was wrong, until he saw Scott, and Scott nearly panicked.
"Here, now, Lexington, what's going on? Scott's not in any trouble, is he?" Adrian said. His tone of voice and body language conveyed that he'd defend the boy if the boy needed defending.
Trevin shook his head. "We were coming to get you. We have bad news. There's been an accident. It's Evelyn. I'm sorry."
Adrian stood still, letting the first round of shock hit. He braced himself and looked Trevin in the eye to get the rest of it.
"Your kids are at the Harrisons, with half the moms in town forming a protective fortress around them. Chaplain Davis is there, too. But the kids need to see you, to know you're all right."
Adrian nodded. He put a hand on the wall, to steady himself. He knew enough to know that the gathering probably wouldn't be at a private home if his wife was in the hospital. Besides, this was Trevin Lexington talking to him, the man who usually did death notifications around here.
"Adrian, I regret to inform you that your wife is dead," Trevin said, to confirm the news.
Despite having braced for the worst, Adrian stepped backward, shaking his head and groaning, before he caught himself. He seemed to be holding himself together mostly for Scott's sake.
Trevin looked at how Scott was taking all this, and how the boy and the bereaved man were relating to one another. He felt he was the odd man out, and should t
ake himself out of the picture for now. "The pastor can fill you in on details, when you're ready for them. I'll go tell Ott – "
"What happened?" Adrian demanded.
"She choked on some food, and no one could get it cleared in time," Trevin said.
"Oh, it was worse than that," Scott wailed. "She and some of the other women were throwing food into the air and catching it in their mouths and Douggy reminded them that we're not supposed to do that because it's not safe, and she laughed and said that it was OK for grownups to do it, and she did it again and that's when she choked, right after bragging about being good at it!"
Adrian looked dully at Trevin.
"No one told me that, but Scott was there. He'd know. And I guess pretty much everybody else there would know, including your kids, so it's just as well we know now. But I am sorry," Trevin said. He changed his mind about sending the two of them back together while he went on to tell Lt. Ott. "Let's get walking that direction, shall we? After you convince your kids they still have a daddy who loves them, you can go somewhere and yell, or pound holes in doors, or fall down on the ground and writhe, or go half unconscious for five hours – whatever it is you need to do – but let's see if we can't all hold together long enough for you to tell the kids it's all going to be all right somehow."
"Oh, Mr. Alcorn, I'm so sorry I said that," Scott whimpered. "I don't know why I did that. I'm so sorry."
Adrian managed a faint smile. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, that's all right. I'd rather hear it now, than have somebody hit me with it while I'm there trying to talk to my kids. It's all right."