Odd Billy Todd (31 page)

He’d just have to see how things played out.

“Well, first off, we talked about some other folks being brought in, if they was willing and able,” Billy replied. “We need to talk that out, and decide what we aim to do. Then do it. Once that’s done, we’ll have to tackle this list head on. If we get the others, then we’ll have more hands for everything.”

“Where would they live?” Jerry asked.

“Well, there’s the Smith place, you showed us,” Ralph offered. “We’d likely need to do some work in there, but I think we can make it habitable in a couple days. And it’s a nice place,” he added.

“True,” Jerry mused. “How many people we talkin’ about, anyway?”

“Well. . . .” Billy started.

When he mentioned Ben Kelvey, the room erupted.

“Absolutely not!” Jerry thundered, coming to his feet. Billy looked up at him calmly.

“Sit down, Jerry, and hear them out,” he said softly. “I did, and I was the one he was pointin’ a shotgun at.”

“Well, that’s true,” Jerry replied, the wind leaving his sails. “I reckon if you can hear it, then I ought to.”

Ralph and George repeated what they’d said earlier about the Kelvey family, or what remained of it. When they finished, Jerry pursed his lips, then turned to Billy.

“If everything is like they say,” he spoke slowly, “and I mean everything, then I reckon it’s up to you, Billy. Like you said, you’re the one he pointed the gun at. If you can allow that to pass, then I reckon I have to, too.”

“Fair enough,” Billy said after a minute. “What about them two soldier friends o’ yours, George? If they want to come in, we’ll need another place.”

“What about the Williamson place?” Ralph asked. “It ain’t far away, about two miles is all. And since we got the bio-diesel set-up down there, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone down there. Heck, I bet Howie could build a lot better rig than we can,” he added to George, who nodded.

“That’s a good house, too,” he put in.

“Little small,” Jerry mused. “I think it’s got three bedrooms.

“Could be four, though, Daddy,” Shelly said suddenly. “Remember how they added a family room on back, about three years ago?”

“Hey, that’s right,” Toby chimed in. “We used to hang out in there and play video games when I’d spend the night with Chuckie. . . .” His voice trailed off as he realized he was talking about one of his best friends. Before the plague, anyway.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down.

“For what?” George asked. “For remembering your friend? Hell, son, don’t never apologize for something like that. Ever.”

“Absolutely,” all the others added their encouragement.

“It ain’t nothin’, Toby,” Billy whispered softly, and the boy looked up. “Let it go, little brother. All over and done with. Just remember the good times, and let them be what you keep with you.”

No one spoke for a moment, as all of them drank in Billy’s words. Everyone at that table had lost someone. Friends, family, neighbors, someone. There were empty holes in every life sitting at the table. Billy’s words help fill some of them. Just a little.

“Anyway, it’s a little bigger,” Shelly opined after a minute, drawing attention away from her brother. “So really, you could call it four bedroom. And there’s two baths, too.”

“That would do pretty good,” Amy said. “Sounds nice.”

“Ya’ll want it instead?” Jerry asked.

“Not a chance,” George and Ralph said at the same time, which caused general laughter. “We ain’t movin’ that stuff again,” George finished for them, with Ralph nodding in agreement.

“Well, sounds like we got a plan, then. Put who where, you think, assuming they all want to join up?” Billy got back to business. Had to stick to the plan, after all.

“I think the Kelvey’s at the Smith place,” Ralph said. “They’re gonna need to be close by, since Howie ain’t really recovered yet. Being that close will let Amy keep a close eye on him,” he added, looking at her. Amy nodded.

“Yeah. If he’s battling infection, I’ll need to be where I can bathe his wound several times a day.”

“That put’s Terry and Pete at the Williamson’s then,” George nodded. “They’ll be good security for the place. Though I don’t like their kids being anywhere away from the rest of us.”

“Straight as the crow’ll fly, it ain’t but less’n a mile,” Billy shrugged. “We can get over there pretty quick, anything bad happens.”

“That’s true,” George agreed after thinking it over. “And that place will give them plenty of room if Pete decides to stay with them.”

“If he don’t, I don’t know where else we can put him,” Jerry pointed out.

“Pete’s an odd duck, sometimes,” George shrugged. “He’s as liable to build a lean-to in the woods as he is to live in a house.”

“Sounds like an interesting guy,” Shelly remarked, earning her a look from her father. She just shrugged.

“Okay, then. Ya’ll contact’em if you can,” Billy decided. “Me and Jerry, and I guess Rhonda and Em,” he added, seeing a frown from Rhonda, “will go with you to talk to’em. Remind’em not to be sayin’ nothin’. Don’t want folks to be all eager.” Everyone nodded at that, remembering the last two trips in that direction.

“Now, there’s some other things. . . .”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The radio calls were positive all around. All parties were interested in at least talking to the ‘Farms’. Jerry and Billy wanted to go as soon as possible, and a meet was scheduled for three days later.

In the meantime there was much to do. Jerry and Billy had bailed as much hay as they could before the second trip to Franklin. The first day after the meeting was spent by all able hands moving that hay to storage. Some went to Billy’s, some to Jerry’s, but mostly it was placed in the large pole barn at the Franklin place.

The next day was spent in the gruesome task of making sure the Williamson place was ready for occupancy, just in case. No one wanted to do the job, but Billy was adamant that he wasn’t going to go through another ‘Widow George’ incident. Rhonda and Jerry quietly explained what had happened to the others, who nodded in understanding. George and Ralph removed the house’s sole occupant, which they were fairly sure was Mister Williamson himself.

The house was cleaned thoroughly, and the food stocks gone through. What was still good was left for the next occupant, the rest discarded. The freezer had kept running, thanks to the PV cells on the roof, and the contents were checked. Most looked okay, and only a few meat items were discarded. The refrigerator was also still running, although everything in there had long since ruined. With bleach and cleaners, the ladies managed to save it, while Ralph, George and Jerry buried Mister Williamson. Toby was elected to cart off the ruined refrigerator's contents.

Billy had checked the PV cells and batteries, while the others worked inside. One battery had burst, and he replaced it with one he’d taken in town. The others looked good, and with the others using power, the batteries were getting a good pull for the first time since the plague. He checked all the connections, and the inverters. He was pleasantly surprised to find them in good working order.

It took most of the day, and the group was exhausted afterward, but they were able to deem the property ready for habitation. The Williamson’s personal effects were removed, although the furniture remained. Billy dutifully carted the boxes to the barn, storing them in the tack room, which Mister Williamson had made fairly rat and mouse proof over the years.

“Well, that was a day’s work,” Amy stated, wiping her brow. Despite the cool air, everyone had worked up a sweat today.

“Sure was,” Debbie agreed, fanning her shirt. “Nice place, though. People who owned it put a lot of love and hard work into it.”

“That they did,” Jerry nodded sadly. Emma had agreed to stay at home and watch the two children in the group. She figured it wasn’t a good thing for them to see the house.

“Well, I’d say we’re done here,” Rhonda came out of the house, carrying her cleaning equipment. “Looks good.”

“Yeah,” Amy agreed, picking up her own buckets. “We’ll do the Smith place tomorrow. It doesn’t look so bad.”

“Don’t forget that place has been empty a while,” Jerry cautioned. “Don’t take no chances, or go stickin’ your hands in no dark places.”

“I’ll go and spray it, when I leave here,” Billy offered. “Overnight should kill most of the bugs. Once we’re done, we can bomb it, and burn a formaldehyde candle overnight. That’ll kill anything in there.”

“Never heard of the candle thing,” Debbie was interested.

“Mamma used’em,” Billy just shrugged. “Said it killed the germs and bugs and such not. I got some of’em still.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Amy nodded. “Tomorrow then?”

Everyone agreed, and all set off toward their respective homes. Billy and Rhonda stopped at the farm to pick up the spray.

“I can get this alone, you wanna stay here,” he offered.

“Nah, I’ll go with,” she smiled. “Be nice for the two of us to do something. Like everybody, but not all at once. And not all day.”

“Yeah,” Billy agreed.

They pulled into the yard at the Smith place. There was still light, but it was fading. The Smith place didn’t have PV power, so it was dark.

“Least it’ll be empty,” Billy said, as he prepared the sprayer.

“Might be snakes,” Rhonda replied, hefting her little .410 shotgun.

“Just don’t do no damage we’ll have to fix,” Billy teased. She snorted.

“Long as I kill any snakes, I’ll fix the damage.”

The went into the carport, intending to get inside through that door. Billy had just tested the door knob, when the door splintered as a bullet whizzed by. Both dropped to the ground, Billy drawing his pistol.

“Don’t come in here or I’ll shoot!”

*****

“What the hell!” Billy exclaimed. “Whoever you are, you better not be shootin’ at me no more! I don’t like it!”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” Rhonda asked in disgust.

“I don’t see you doin’ no better!” Billy snapped back. “Damn near took my head off!”

“I mean it!” the voice cried again. “I gotta gun, and I ain’t afraid to use it! Ya’ll best just be gettin’ on!” It was a girl’s voice, maybe just into her teen years, Rhonda was almost sure. And she was scared, it sounded like.

“Who are you?” Rhonda asked.

“None o’ yer business!” the voice screeched back. “Now I mean you best just take off, you hear!”

“I think we know now who was shooting at the gravel pit,” Rhonda told Billy dryly. Billy looked at her with dawning comprehension. Then he frowned again.

“I still don’t like bein’ shot at,” he said sullenly. Despite the situation, Rhonda had to stifle a giggle.

“Whoever you are, we don’t mean you any harm,” she called out. “Can we at least talk?”

“Yer talkin’ right now!” the voice shot back. Rhonda noticed that she sounded a little unsure now.

“Look, I don’t know who you was expectin’, but we live just over the hill. There may be some folks comin’ to live here in a few days, and we wanted to make sure the place was clean. That’s all.”

“Well, I’m livin’ here, and I don’t aim to leave!” came the defiant answer.

“I’m gonna tear a strip off o’ her hide, we get in there,” Billy muttered angrily. “Of all the fool notions. . . .”

“Hey!” Rhonda snapped at him. “She’s alone, most like, and afraid. Until you been in her shoes, you don’t get to decide how she get’s judged. This ain’t some bully, or jackass at the trade day. This is probably a scared little girl, protecting herself from stuff only another woman can imagine. Now shut it!”

Billy glared at her, which just bounced off of her. She turned back to the door.

“My name’s Rhonda Higgins,” she said, not as loudly. “What’s yours?”

“Mary,” the voice sounded a little less sure of herself now. “Not that that changes nothin’,” she added.

“That’s fine, Mary,” Rhonda replied. “What’s your last name? Are you from around here? I am. My daddy ran a gun shop in town, before. . .well, you know. Before.”

“Jerrolds,” Mary replied after a minute of silence. “My name’s Mary Jerrolds.”

“Jerrolds?” Billy frowned. “Hey, you ain’t Dennis Jerrolds’ kid are you?” he shouted.

“I. . .I might be,” Mary answered, sounding a little less scared. Maybe.

“Hell, gal, I knowed your daddy! He worked at the car plant! I worked on his truck once in a while.”

“What kinda truck?” the girl asked. Rhonda grinned. Cagey little minx.

“A ugly yellow Ford F-150,” Billy told her, smiling.

“That truck wasn’t ugly!” an indignant reply shot back. “That truck was beautiful!”

“Yeah, you’re Dennis’ girl alright,” Billy laughed. “He told me he bought that thing cause his little girl liked the color. Said it looked like Tweety Bird.”