Shards
By Darrel Bird
Copyright January 2014 by Darrel Bird
“Good name. This is my daughter Missy, and my wife Lou. How many people are you?”
“There are forty of us, with twenty two warriors. We fish in the river, and hunt north, and south. When the electricity went, we just went back to the old ways; it wasn’t much of a jump for us, as we were already poor according to white men’s standards.”
The man called Gray Eagle seemed eager to talk, while Bob Dunn was willing to sit, and listen.
“We would be willing to help what we can, and hunt, and fish for only what we need to survive here.” Craig said.
“This is our land, but I would be willing to speak for you at the council.” Gray Eagle looked at him, and Bob Dunn shook his head affirmative, “We will go now, and come again after a time.” Gray Eagle wheeled his horse, and they rode off toward the river.
“Why did you tell him that? It’s not exactly true?” Lou asked him as she walked out on the porch.
“Well, it's not exactly false either, and I thought it may help us.”
“No, it’s not exactly false. In the months since we found you, you have been like a father to Missy, and like a husband to me. I haven’t stuck around because of necessity.”
“Oh, I’m not necessary?”
“You know what I mean.” She looked at him and smiled.
Two week's past, and they had chinked the logs of the house with mud, fixed the roof, and butchered one of the cattle. Lou spent four days making jerky by curing thin strips of the beef. She had also gathered the ingredients for Cactus bread from the desert around. The Indians hadn’t returned, and Craig was thinking of paying them a visit when a group of eight people came over the rim of the canyon.
“Stay in the house Missy, and tell Lou to grab her bow but stay in the living room.”
Missy ran into the house, calling her mother who was in the back room of the house. The group had no horses, and their clothes were very ragged. A man with beady eyes, and a thick stained beard spoke as they walked up to the house.
“Hello.”
“Hello yourself.” Craig said as he gradually brought the rifle around to point at the man's chest.
“No need for the rifle mister, we don’t mean harm.”
“And I intend to see that none comes to us.” Craig looked at the man, as his eyes scanned the rest of the group. There were only two women with six men. His neck hairs rose, and he felt like he was facing a pack of wolves. Their eyes darted here, and there, and they were the eyes of predators, not honest travelers.
“We need food.” The man said, as his hand inched toward a long knife in his belt.
“We can spare a little jerked beef.” But Craig knew the offer was useless. He knew they would have to fight, and perhaps die. He could get off one shot, and he intended to kill the one with the beady eyes, and he hoped Lou could get one more, but that still left six of them including the women.
The man had his hand upon the handle of his knife when they heard a whoop, and horses coming from the direction of the river. About twenty horses with fierce looking men swiftly rode up to stand before the predators.
Craig recognized Gray Eagle, and Bob Dunn in the group immediately, “Are these your friends Craig Martin?” Gray Eagle asked, but Craig knew the man already knew the answer.
“No, they were just leaving.”
The group looked around at the Indians, and now there was fear in their eyes, the predatory looks gone.
“Yes, we were just about ready to leave.” The man said.
“Our friends here have decided you would leave now, and don’t stop for three days walk, or we will come to kill you. There will be no more warning.” Gray Eagle said.
The group turned to hurry toward the top of the canyon. They glance behind them at times, knowing that their lives were hanging in the balance. The Indians watched them go, then Gray Eagle turned to Craig, “When wolves come, it is not always the proper thing to kill them, but neither is it proper to let them hang about the camp. We will track them to make sure they do not return here.”
“Thank you, I was beginning to get a little worried there for a while Gray Eagle.”
“The council has spoken about you; you may hunt what you need to live, and live here in peace. You are invited to our camp for a feast in five days from today.”
“We’ll be there.”
Five of the Indians split off from the group following the predators, as Gray Eagle, and the rest turned back toward the river. Lou and Missy came out on the porch to stand beside Craig as he watched them go.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared.”
“Yeah, they would have killed us but for the Indians. We have some good friends here. I told you the good people would come.” He hugged the two of them tightly. Love had returned to his life, and he was grateful to God for it.
A week later there was a lightning storm over the Arizona desert, and it brought with it the smell of ozone. In an abandoned drug store, the acid in a flash light battery brought the battery to life, and the spark was reborn on the shards of a civilization.
The end