Ever Onward (31 page)

“Mind a little company?”, Flame asked
from several feet away. “Og and I were swimming and saw you sitting
here all alone.” She sat down beside him, her long hair still
dripping. Glancing over, Josh noticed the one piece bathing suit
she wore matched her large, emerald eyes. He also couldn’t help but
notice how low cut the front was. She stretched her tanned legs out
before her and smiled. Josh returned the gesture, then went back to
watching the waves.

They sat in silence for several
minutes before Og, deciding to chase an upstart seagull from ‘his’
beach, tore off after the offending bird. The gull took to the air
and hovered in the wind a dozen feet above the frantically barking
pup.

Flame laughed deeply and leaned
against Josh. “Isn’t that just like a male? Always wanting
something that he can’t have.” She smiled. “Even if he did get it,
he wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Josh, conscious of her hand still on
his arm, faced her. “You don’t give us males much credit for
brains, do you?”

“Why should I?”, she asked, continuing
to lean against him. “I mean, look where it’s got us. For thousands
of years men ruled the world, made all the decisions, pushed all
the buttons.”

“Even if that’s so,” Josh put in, “do
you think that’s going to change now?”

Her deep laughter pealed across the
beach. “Hell no! We women were just starting to gain some ground
when some asshole, probably a male, fucked up bigtime. Now we’re
all back in the bloody Stone Age. Survival of the fittest and all
that shit.”

“Darwin would be pleased you agree,”
Josh said dryly.

Flame laughed some more. “Don’t try
that teacher-shit on me, Josh. I know who Darwin was, and I agree
with him. But who says the fittest always has to be a male? I’ve
know plenty of men in my time, and most of them were assholes, but
they still thought they were big shots just because they carried
around a third leg.”

Now it was Josh’s turn to laugh. “Does
all this male-bashing have a point?”

Tossing back her wet hair, she turned
to face him. “Sure it does. I spent most of my life looking for
someone who would accept me as I am. Not try to change me or make
me stand in his shadow. Whenever I thought I’d found him, somehow
he’d turn into a shithead.” There was a long pause before she
continued. “With you, I think it might be different.”

Josh was taken back. “Me? I thought
you and Brad ---”

She took his hand in hers. “Brad’s a
nice guy. A friend. I can talk to him and he listens, but
---”

“You’ve slept with him.”

Anger flashed quickly across her face,
but was just as quickly gone. A knowing smile took its place. “Yes
I have. Twice. He seemed to need it and you didn’t. But that’s just
sex. I’m talking about something more.”

Josh sighed, deciding such frankness
deserved a frank response. “I’ve had a wife, Flame. I loved her
deeply. Part of me always will. I don’t want another
one.”

Again her deep laughter rang out.
“Christ, I don’t want to replace your wife, and I don’t give a shit
about how many women you’ve had or will have. I told you, I want
something more than just sex.”

“What then? Love?”

She held his gaze. “Respect. A kind of
equal partnership.”

He reached out and gently touched her
hair, sliding his finger down her upturned cheek. “My wife was my
partner. I don’t want another one.”

She turned and faced his squarely.
“Then tell me, Josh, what do you want?”

He looked at her for some time, the
sounds around them stilled by the intensity of his gaze. When he
did speak, his voice was heavy; not with desire, but with a distant
longing. “I want everything to be as it was. I want a world where
Snakes’ and Chisolms’ exist only in books and on TV. I want a world
where my son won’t be forced to grow up killing others just to stay
alive.” He smiled, holding her gaze with his own. “Beyond that, I
honestly don’t know.”

She sat there in silence, looking at
this quiet man that drew her like no other ever had. In the course
of her life she had had many lovers. A few times she had even
thought herself in love. But this was different. Strangely
different, and she wasn’t quite sure she liked it. Always before
she had called the shots. Her looks and her personality had always
put her in the driver’s seat.

Until now.

She dropped her eyes. It was not a
gesture she had made too many times in her life. Feeling suddenly
like a schoolgirl, she groped for words she had used so easily in
the past. They came awkwardly to her tongue.

“Do...do you want me?”

Josh waited so long to answer she was
unsure if he was going to. Then he spoke. The answer both delighted
and confused her.

“Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t.
Most of the time I’m too busy to think about it.”

Her voice caught in her throat. Part
of her wondered what the hell was happening. It had never been like
this before.

“Do you want me...now?”

This time the answer was quick in
coming. Shockingly quick.

“No.”

She moved closer; wanting and angry at
herself for wanting. “Why not? The others do. Brad. Jimmy. Even
Eddy. He still doesn’t trust me, but I’ve seen his eyes follow me.
If they can feel desire, why can’t you?”

This time it was he who took her hand.
“Perhaps because its just too early. Too much has happened. I guess
I’m just not ready for any more...complications.”

“And that’s what I’d be for you? Just
another ‘complication’?” There was a hint of anger in her
voice.

He grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling.
“You already are a complication. I’m just not sure how to deal with
it yet.”

Her anger faded. ‘Don’t push it,
girl!’, a little voice said inside her. ‘You’re on to something
good here, so don’t screw it up! He said he was interested; well,
sort of. He just needs time. What do you want him to do, take you
right here on the beach?’ The answer to that came back at warp
speed. ‘You’re bloody right I do!’, but she pushed that thought
away. Instead, she smiled sweetly.

“Fair enough. But you’ll let me know
when you do?”

“You’ll be the first to
know.”

Og’s little dog growl suddenly drew
their attention. The pup stood with its hackles up, staring at two
strangers walking towards them along the beach. A large dog trotted
out ahead of them.

Josh instinctively checked his
Beretta, then pulled the .22 Backup from his ankle holster and
slipped it to Flame.

She covered it with her towel and
stood up. The strangers were a couple of hundred feet away. “Looks
like a guy and an old lady. The guy’s carrying something. Could be
a rifle.”

Josh stood up and called Og. The pup
obeyed, but reluctantly. “Watch the old woman. And look
happy.”

“I’d be a hell of a lot happier if
this pop gun of yours was bigger!”

Josh waved at the odd pair. Both waved
back. They looked like a young man taking his grandmother out for a
stroll along the beach. Josh saw that the man was carrying not a
rifle but a shovel. The old woman had a large sack. Both dogs were
busy sniffing each other --- then Og wanted to play.

“Hi there!”, the young man called, his
tanned face breaking into a grin. He looked to be in his early
twenties. A headband held back long, brown hair. “I’m Buz. Me and
Granny here are out digging clams.”

“Having any luck?”, Josh asked, his
eyes watching the shovel.

“Got enough Pissers here for a real
clam-bake,” the old woman put in, eagerly showing the half full
sack. “You and your misses are welcome to share. Come along back to
the Lighthouse and I’ll fix us up a batch.”

The old woman’s smile showed a poor
set of false teeth, but was open and friendly. Buz nodded
agreement.

“You folks live near here?”, Josh
asked. He had relaxed his guard somewhat, but not completely. A
part of him wondered if he ever would.

“Just around the bend,” Buz replied.
“Six of us have moved into the York Lighthouse. It’s sort of a
commune. We live off what we grow and what we take from the sea.
You know, like they did back in the Sixties!”

‘Christ!’, Josh thought. ‘A bunch of
third generation Hippies!’ Looking at Granny, he revised that to
the second and third generation. ‘And why not?’, the voice inside
continued. ‘Peace and love are a hell of a lot better than what
Snake or Chisolm had been offering!’

“We’d be pleased to,” Josh said. “But
we’re not alone. There’s another six of us camped back in the
dunes.”

“Far out!”, Buz grinned.

Granny agreed. “Bring them along.
There’s plenty for all. Myra’s been baking bread since
sunrise.”

Josh said they’d talk to the others
and probably drop by on their way out of town. Granny told them to
stop over anytime they liked, then called her dog and started off
down the beach. Buz shot them a peace sign and trotted after
her.

Josh and Flame watched them go,
shrugged at each other and headed back to the others. Og, reluctant
to leave his newfound friend, barked twice, then raced after his
master.

As it turned out, they not only
dropped by the Lighthouse, they stayed several days. Besides Buz
and Granny there were three women, two men and a young boy about
four or five. There were also three dogs and at least a dozen cats.
They had a large garden planted and the sheltered bay provided an
endless supply of fresh fish. Also, Myra’s bread was the best any
of them had ever tasted.

It did them all good to see
that there were people left who were attempting to build something
worth while, instead of just living off the carcass of a dead
world. Gus took the boys fishing in an old boat he ‘borrowed’ from
the York docks. Buz and Bobby would play guitar and Granny
accompanied them on a harmonica she swore Bob Dillon had given her
mother at Woodstock. Og seemed to enjoy the company of the
commune’s dogs, though Princess acted regal and refused the eager
males company --- something Flame was quick to
notice.

When they left a few days later, it
was with full bellies, warm hearts, a bag of fresh vegetables and
several loaves of Myra’s bread. Granny had packed a tin of Toll
House Cookies, her own specialty, for the boys. As they drove away,
Josh was pleased to find that he had left the sour taste of Bar
Harbor far behind as well.

They stopped at the Kittery Trading
Post to stock up on camping gear. This was the store Jessie had
talked about as being the ‘most rad place in the world!’ Josh
secretly agreed. It was a large, multi-leveled building, with each
floor devoted to a specific outdoor sport. Once inside, everyone,
including Gus, felt like a child let loose in a candy store. Trina,
Flame and Bobby headed for the clothes section, Josh and Brad for
the camping gear and Gus for the fishing department. Eddy wandered
around trying on several pairs of hiking boots. Jessie and Kenneth
headed straight for the archery department.

Josh soon found himself in the antique
gun section. He knew all these ‘ancient’ weapons were just replicas
of the originals, but being a history teacher and more than a
little in love with the past, these well crafted representations of
days long gone drew him like a magnet. He had always loved the
sleek, graceful lines of the Kentucky longrifles. The slender,
hand-polished Tiger-Maple stock, the delicate brasswork of the
patchbox and half-moon buttplate, the hand forged hammer and
frizzen. His mind ran backwards through the centuries as he lifted
the graceful weapon to his shoulder. Hawkeye, Chingagecook, The
Last of the Mohicans! Daniel Boone had carried such a creation, as
had Davy Crockett at the Alamo. Lewis and Clark as well as they
forged their now legendary way across a much younger continent. A
gun, yes, but also a tool to help build a new world! The fact that
it looked and felt like a work of art only added to its
allure!

But in this ‘Brave New World’ there
was no place for such a delicate creation. Semi-autos with laser
scopes and squat, ugly machine pistols now ruled the day. The
one-shot muzzle-loader was truly a thing of the past.

“Screw it!”, Josh said out loud, and
gleefully helped himself to a beautiful flintlock .36 caliber
Kentucky Squirrel Rifle. Within minutes he had located powder, shot
and all the other necessities, including a 300 page book on Black
Powder Shooting --- and was more content that he’d been in
weeks.

A half-hour later they all met at the
front door. Each one was so laden down with things that Brad
laughingly said they’d need another van just to carry it. Bobby
piped up that he’d seen a Volkswagen dealership across the street,
and so while Josh cooked up a freeze-dried feast on his new Peak
III hiking stove, Brad and Bobby left to pick out a new
camper.

Billy, being a mechanic, suggested
changing the oil on all the vehicles as well as checking the tires,
brakes, ect. Eddy and the two boys helped Billy while the rest
sorted though their gear. It was late the next afternoon by the
time they loaded up and headed back to Mount Hawthorn. Brad’s new
red Westfalia now added to the convoy. All felt good to be on their
way home.