7/26/08
053 – Earth
The old man didn’t seem to be particularly surprised to find his desert farm surrounded by soldiers. Certainly, the soldiers were much more surprised to see him.
They were running off the map, in a no-man’s-land between the borders of two countries. There wasn’t supposed to be any human life out here. Technically, they weren’t supposed to be there either. They were violating at least six treaties just standing where they were. They certainly hadn’t been expecting to find an ancient homestead and even more certainly not one that was still working. The old man had been feeding his goats He stood up and shaded his eyes with a hand.
“Well, hello.” His voice had the quality of not having been used much. The soldiers looked at one another, a bit unsure.
“You boys look like you could use a drink,” he continued. More glances among themselves. They were running low on water and heavy canteens would be a burden they would gladly carry. Something a little stronger would have been even more welcome.
The entire squad didn’t fit inside the old man’s tiny hovel of a house, so he sat them all down in the shade of his sunflowers and passed around buckets of ice water with a ladle for dipping. At first, they were very cautious as they drank, not daring to spill what had become for them a precious resource and not to be taken lightly. But as the bucket went around again and again and their thirst was slaked, they began to spare the last swallow in their dipper to pour over their sweat-slick hair or fish the piece of ice out of the dipper to rub across a forehead creased from helmet straps. One soldier dropped a freezing chunk down his neighbor’s collar and the ensuing jerking dance made the entire squad erupt into genuine laughter. They forgot, for the moment, that they were on an illegal homestead, were drinking uninspected water, and were in a dead zone that they shouldn’t be in.
The only one who hadn’t forgotten was the captain. He drank the water as readily as anyone, but only after an apprehensive glance and a silent prayer that it didn’t contain anything that would hurt his boys. But he had had to let them drink it. Hang regulations, he was going to start losing men if they hadn’t found something to drink soon. He laughed at the antics of the soldiers, an ever-increasing number of them with ice down their backs, but out of the corner of his eye, he was watching the old man.
After the buckets had gone around enough times for the soldiers to be dumping dipperfuls on each other, the old man gathered them up and came to sit near the captain.
“A fine set of boys you got here, captain.”
The captain was surprised the civilian knew his rank. He wasn’t dressed any differently from the others.
“M’name’s Jeremy.” The old man extended his hand. It was dirty and calloused and it shook slightly on its own, but the grip was still firm when the captain clasped it.
“Thank you,” the captain said, avoiding giving his name. It was on his tag, but maybe the old man wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to advertise his presence here. He meant his thanks though. The old many was probably emptying out his wells here to hydrate so many men. “We were going to be in bad shape soon without some water.”
Jeremy waved his hand as if to brush away the captain’s words.
“Least I can do for those who protect and serve. I appreciate all that you do, even if it doesn’t affect me here.”
The captain didn’t reply. He wasn’t quite sure how. But Jeremy seemed to read his mind.
“Yeah, I know I’m illegal here. But it’s my land, passed down from generation to generation. My great-great-grandpa was born here. And now I’m illegal, but I ain’t leaving. Most of my animals are endangered too.” He caught a passing chicken by its tail feathers and hauled it back into his hands.
“See her? She’s worth about a million, maybe more. Conservationists would be falling over themselves to get one of the eggs I eat every day. Heritage breeds and all that.”
He let the chicken go and it went about its business, clucking softly. The captain stayed quiet. All around him was the light chatter of his soldiers, their thirst having slacked. Jeremy was watching him, he could feel it.
After a moment of mutual silence, Jeremy slapped his knees with both hands and levered himself up with a grunt.
“Well, let’s get ya’ll’s water bottles filled. Spicket’s this way,” he called, leading the soldiers toward the faucet standing all alone in the center of the yard. The soldiers formed a line and one by one, they filled their canteens and camel packs. Jeremy came back to stand by the captain, who was at the end of the line.
“How are you all doing with food?”
“We’re fine.” The captain didn’t elaborate with the detail that all they had were food bars. The soldiers might like a fresh meal, but their captain didn’t want to have to worry about being caught with contraband. He was already obliged enough to this illegal. Jeremy gave him a knowing look at his blurted answer, but didn’t say anything else.
When all the water bottles were filled, the captain extended his hand once more to the old man.
“I thank you again on behalf of us all.”
“My pleasure,” Jeremy replied modestly.
The soldiers had remembered their cares now and were moving back into preparedness before the order. Backpacks were lifted onto shoulders, bootstraps were tightened. They stood waiting for the command to move out.
“Be seeing you boys.”
No you won’t, the captain thought. With any luck, you won’t ever hear of us again. But what he said was, “Sure. Be seeing you.”
He started to turn, to go back to his men, but he hesitated.
“My name’s Dyson, by the way. Charles Dyson.”
Then he jogged over, ready to lead his men away and to forget about the little old man with his expensive endangered chickens and his illegal patch of land.
The old man went back to feeding his goat as if nothing had happened. The soldiers continued on their way, doing their best to forget they had accepted help from an illegal and that their captain, Charles Dyson, had no intention of mentioning said illegal when they finally found their way back home. And they all knew that no one else would mention it either.
Another one! And, as always, well-written--I really,
) It just...kind of rubs on me the right way. Like, after the wonderfully written scene preceding, seems a bit...I dunno...meaningless. I mean, I felt like chuckling over the "expensive endangered chickens" part, and I KNOW that's not the reaction you were aiming for. So...yeah. This is probably me being too picky, though. >_>
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