Read Power in the Blood Online
Authors: Greg Matthews
Fay could follow only a small portion of the elliptical conversations that erupted sporadically around her, and was frightened by the inexplicable occurrences taking place before her eyes. She beckoned Bones outside and said, “I don’t like this place. Something’s evil here.…”
“No it isn’t. It’s Omie, she just does things that don’t make sense. She doesn’t mean any harm by it.”
“But her and her mother, they keep saying things to Zeebub, like they knew him before, but they
didn’t
.…”
“I know; I heard some of it. I don’t know what they’re talking about, myself, but there’s nothing evil in it.”
“I want to go back to town.”
“You came here looking for me, and this is where I live. You and Zeebub can stay here till Lodi gets back, or else you can damn well move on. I’ll put the blindfold on you again and take you away and turn you loose where you’d never find your way back here. I’ll do that if you want, but listen, I don’t believe Zeebub would go with you. He’s not scared of anything, that man, I can tell. So you tell me what you want to do.”
“You don’t care for me at all, do you?”
“That’s not so. I just don’t like the way you expect everything to happen exactly how and when you want it to. When I took you back to Cortez in the wagon, you wanted me to go with you then and there, no other way would suit you, and so I didn’t go. Now you want something else, because you’re scared of a little girl with a funny face and strange ways.”
“You still think I sold you out down there.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“But you’ll have me, meantime.”
“I don’t recall forcing myself on you.”
Drew waited for a slap, but none came. He didn’t want Fay to go away, nor did he want her to complain about the situation she found herself in. The dramatic meeting that afternoon between Zeebub and the Brannans had left Drew in mind of a play by Shakespeare he had watched while in Denver, after posing for an artist, a play in which the stage had been littered with dead bodies when the final curtain fell. He did not understand why it had happened, that cataclysmic coming together of Fay’s alleged rescuer and his own, but he was not afraid of it, wanted in fact to question them all closely, so he might be made privy to the unusual circumstances existing among them. He had caught snatches of talk passing between them, but none of it made sense to him, and he was mildly resentful of the fact that Zeebub had somehow inserted himself between the Brannans and himself.
Drew had been getting along fine with Omie and her mother before Fay showed up with her friend, and he was not sure why it was that he now felt everything was different; a corner had been turned, but he did not know why, or in what direction. Zeebub was more than he seemed, but Drew could not tell what that hidden part of him might be; nor could he tell what consequences there might be in it for himself, but he did not doubt that change of some kind was heading his way, a significant overturning of everything he knew and could understand. He was waiting for it to arrive, as he waited for Lodi, but the changes that would come from the people already inside the cabin would make Lodi’s return a minor event by comparison; Drew knew that much, although he could not have explained why.
“Walk me over there,” Fay said, pointing to the trees beyond the clearing.
“All right,” Drew said, knowing the kind of reassurance she required. He took her hand and led her away from the cabin. Drew asked himself if he was using her, and could not decide; he would ask himself the same question afterward, with a mind less clouded by desire.
Clay could no more take his eyes off Omie than she could look anywhere but at him. He had attempted several times to raise the topic of his visions and dreams down through the years, but was afraid to appear foolish in front of Fay Torrey and Bones. With both of them gone, he began again to try and comprehend what it was that linked him to this girl with the blue face. Omie herself had been unresponsive, in the manner of a confused child, when he broached any mention of himself and her, so this time he asked the mother outright. “Ma’am, I’ve met your daughter before, but only in my thoughts, if you see what I mean, never in the flesh, as they say. Ma’am, I don’t know what it means. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Mrs. Brannan?”
“I do, and then again, Mr. Zeebub, I do not. Omie has said several times that she was pursued by, or found herself in close proximity to, an entity she referred to as ‘the tall man.’ His description matches your own, Mr. Zeebub. I do not presume to know why this should be.”
Clay wanted to tell the woman, even the girl—who was much too young to hear, let alone understand, the things aching to spill from his lips—about his experiences: not only those relating to the appearance in his dreams of Omie, but the way in which she had assisted him in his search for the killer and maimer of the southwest territories known as Slade to the nation but known by Clay to be Wixson, the seeker after the soul, whom Clay believed to be Morgan Kindred, adoptive parent of his own lost brother, Drew Dugan. Clay wanted to discuss all this, but could not; it was too personal, too closely associated with Clay Dugan, and for the sake of Mr. Jones of Denver’s money, he was, to all intents and purposes, B. L. Zeebub, whose job it was to bring mother and daughter, but especially daughter, to Mr. Jones, for whatever reason that frail old man saw fit. So Clay Dugan held his tongue, even if it hurt him to do so.
Even Omie was not without constraint. For most of the afternoon, and well into the evening, her head reverberated with the echo of her terror when first she’d seen the tall man who came to visit, and she could do nothing but cause pots and pans to clatter, and turn over and over in her thoughts the incredibility of seeing the tall man before her, an actual man of flesh and blood, with holes in his face, just as he had been in her dreams down through the years.
Then, with the arrival of evening, and the disappearance of Bones and the new lady, Omie became calm and cogent. She looked inside the tall man’s head and saw there a desert, on the far side of which lay his true identity. His name was not Mr. Zeebub, which Omie knew already that nobody believed, but she could not see the real name either, so far away was it. Mr. Zeebub was a liar, but he was not a bad man, that much was clear to her, and he was fascinated by herself, Omie saw that also, so she was not inclined to confront him with his silly name, and perhaps put a pain inside his head, until such time as he saw fit to speak the truth and let them all know who he really was. Omie was prepared to wait. She was afraid still, yet every bit as interested in Zeebub as he appeared to be in her. She was a part of him, and he a part of Omie, for reasons neither of them could grasp.
“Are you … a robber, Mr. Zeebub?”
“Ma’am, I’ve turned my hand to many things, and have no legitimate profession that I’d choose to share with a lady like yourself.”
“I’m a fugitive from the law also, and cannot sit in judgment. I ask about your past not from any moral presumption, Mr. Zeebub, but to find out, if I can, why it is that you and Omie are linked in so unusual a manner. There seems to be more at work here than coincidence, I do believe.”
“Ma’am, I do myself, but I can’t give you any answers.”
“Then it may be that we must simply wait for them to be revealed in due time, as dictated by … shall we call it fate, Mr. Zeebub?”
“Good as any other name, ma’am.”
He looked at Omie, who had not taken her eyes from him for more than a few seconds in the past several hours. “Can you tell us, little lady?”
Omie did not shake her head, or nod, or blink an eye.
“Guess not,” said Clay, disappointed, but at the same time relieved. He didn’t trust Omie not to blurt out something that would send Jones’s promised money scattering in the winds of whatever revelation came rushing from her mouth. Clay had to keep reminding himself about that money, or else allow his thoughts to be consumed by curiosity over the girl, which would lead nowhere. She could destroy him with a word, he was sure. Omie silent was a sight better than Omie talkative. The girl’s eyes were deep as mountain lakes, and just as dangerous. Clay felt himself balanced on epiphany’s cusp, fearful of tumbling down into familiar darkness.
“Ma’am, why was it you got Bones out of jail?”
“I thought he was Lodi. Fortunately he’s able to contact Lodi through some means or other. I expect he’ll be here soon.”
“And what was the nature of your wanting to meet Lodi, ma’am, if it’s not outside of my business?”
“I want him to perform a robbery for me, Mr. Zeebub.”
“Train robbery?”
“He seems to excel at such things, by all accounts.”
“That he does, but I was wondering, ma’am, seeing as you’re Mrs. Brannan, and Mr. Brannan’s got plenty of what it takes, just why you’d need to be robbing a train.”
“I’m no longer his wife, but in any case, robbery for profit’s sake is not my intention.”
“Oh,” said Clay, and when Zoe said nothing more, he asked, “Well, what
is
your intention, ma’am?”
“That is for Lodi to learn. Bones says you wish to join up with his partners, and if you do, I’m sure the details will be shared with you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No offense has been taken, I assure you. A man such as yourself, Mr. Zeebub, who has frequented my daughter’s dreams, could never pry. I feel … I almost feel that you have been a part of our lives for so long already. Do you have similar feelings at all?”
“Ma’am, I do, and I just don’t know what to make of it.”
Drew came back to the cabin first, and Fay slipped inside shortly after. Zoe went to her and suggested they begin preparing a meal from the ample supplies on hand, and Fay nodded without a word. Drew gave Clay the nod to come outside, and Clay did so. Drew led him to a nearby creek and pulled a jug from it. They passed it back and forth in the increasingly chilly gloom beneath the pines, then ventured out into the open again, to watch the sky and the softly glowing cabin windows.
“See that shooting star?” Drew asked.
“Missed it.”
“They’re good luck.”
“Well, that’s the story of my life.”
Drew laughed. “Maybe your life’s about to change when Lodi gets back.”
“What’s this robbery she wants him to do?”
Drew hesitated, then went ahead and told him.
Clay said, “We’ll need to see a few more shooting stars to bring that off.”
“Could be Lodi’ll say no. He sticks his neck out to get what he wants, but never so far it’ll get chopped.”
“He’ll need an extra man for it, is my bet.”
“Most likely. Zeebub, I don’t know why exactly, but I trust you, so listen. One of the boys coming back with Lodi is called Nate Haggin, and he’s a low dog. He left me on foot down Cortez way when we were jumped, just rode on by when he could just as easy have picked me up. I’m going to have to call him out over it sometime or other, and I’d appreciate it if you’d back me up, if it comes to that. Nate’s got Lodi behind him, I’ll tell you that right now. Those two go way back, rode with Arch Powell when Powell was big news up in Montana.”
“I know.”
“I guess Fay told you about her old man being with the same bunch, and her ma being with Lodi now, or at least until Cortez. I expect he shucked her off fast after that.”
“You don’t take women along in this line of work.”
“Tell that to Mrs. Brannan.”
“You tell her.”
The jug went back and forth several more times before Drew asked, “Zeebub, what the hell was all that when we rode up today?”
“Can’t explain it,” said Clay.
“I know Omie’s a strange one. Why, she can make things move without laying a finger on them, and she can see inside your head, Zeebub, she really can.”
“My head?”
“Anyone’s head. It’s a gift, her ma says.”
“I got a gift like that, I’d wrap it up and send it back.”
Drew laughed easily. Clay could tell Bones liked him, and although he found it flattering, never having been truly liked by anyone before, he saw Bones as too trusting, too open-hearted to be an outlaw. He expected that any kind of a fight between Bones and Nate Haggin would result in Bones’s death. It was generally that way with good men; they didn’t have the meanness to kill when they needed to. He felt a paternal sense of concern growing in him, a sensation Clay had not experienced since the early years of his son’s life.
The cabin door opened, and Fay stood silhouetted against the light. Clay felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing how completely she belonged to Bones.
“Are you men out there doing nothing?” she called.
“No,” Drew called back. “We’re drinking!”
“Well, quit right now and come eat.”
She slammed the door.
“That’s a harsh woman sometimes, Zeebub, but I like her.”
“Do you trust her?”
“That’s a horse of a different color, as they say.”
They set the jug down, handy for later, and went inside.
Omie would not eat, but sat looking at Clay. Zoe could do nothing with her, and so stopped trying.
“What’s wrong with your girl, Mrs. Brannan?” asked Fay.
“Oh, nothing new. Set your mind free of it, Miss Torrey, Omie will only baffle you as she does me.”
The men made suitable comments of appreciation over the meal, even if it was, in truth, not especially tasty, and retired outside to their jug again as speedily as they could.
“Let them get their blanket set up,” said Drew. “It hangs across the room and gives them privacy. I always go outside anyway when Mrs. Brannan wants to get undressed behind it, just to keep her happy.”
“That’s not a happy woman, Bones.”
“Not till Lodi gets back, she isn’t.”
“How about Omie? Is she happy? Can you tell, with all her strangeness?”
“I’d call her happy, sure, till you came along, that is. I never did see her before like she is now. You’ve spooked her, Zeebub.”
Clay wanted to discuss with Bones the mysterious dreams he and Omie had shared for so long, but could not. Even the jug would never crack his jaw to that extent. Bones, however, seemed eager to talk, and Clay assumed it was the company of females that made him want to spend time with another man. Bones talked of his boyhood in Galveston, living next door to a whorehouse, and his brief stint with the army. Clay was startled to learn how Bones lost his finger at the behest of Panther Stalking and Kills With a Smile.