Holding Their Own: The Toymaker (12 page)

“You’ve been nothing but an old grouch since I got back from Alpha,” Terri proclaimed defiantly, fists flying to her hipbones, signaling her displeasure and concern. “I know you’re upset over the garden and the cows, but we’ve survived a lot, lot worse.”

Bishop stared down at the ground, guilty as charged. “Sorry,” he mumbled, hoping to avoid further scolding. “If I was taking it out on you, I didn’t mean to.”

She stepped close, reaching up to touch his face. Softer this time, “What’s the matter, Bishop? This isn’t like you to get down in the dumps or lose your temper like that.”

The Texan made eye contact with his wife – but only for a moment before his gaze returned to his boots. “I don’t know… I guess… I just feel like a failure,” he stammered. “I put a lot of pressure on you to resign from the council so we could be together here at the ranch. I wanted that so badly. Now, I can’t seem to make a go of it. Everything I touch turns to shit.”

Brushing his cheek gently, she responded, “It will work out, I promise. It’s not like you’re a lazy bones. You’re working hard every day. Things will come around. They always do.”

Her words put a smile on his face, but it was short-lived. “I appreciate your faith in me. I truly do. But my hard work and your optimism aren’t going to put food on the table. We went hungry for a long time, and I don’t intend on letting that happen again.”

Terri grinned, determined to cheer up her husband. She stepped back and then performed a perfect pirouette, gracefully extending her arms wide. “I don’t know. Without all that sugar and carbs in our diet, I’m pretty happy with my girlish figure. It’s one of the few post-apocalyptic benefits I can brag about.”

“You’ve always had a great shape,” Bishop replied. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Despite his words, it was obvious from the expression on her husband’s face that her approach didn't have the desired effect.

Upping the ante, she again moved close, tracing her fingers across his chest in a seductive manner. “And a certain Texan I’m rather fond of isn’t looking too bad either,” she cooed.

Bishop took her hand, squeezing gently and looking deep into her eyes. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Really, I do. My issue isn’t with you… or Hunter… or our lives together. No man could ask for more. My problem is with me and my ability to provide for my family.”

Terri hesitated, trying to decide how best to address her husband’s fears. Finally, she said, “There are other ways to earn a living besides ranching, my love. Meraton and Alpha are full of men who don’t raise cattle or gardens.”

“But they have skills… or know a trade or craft. The only way I’ve ever earned money is with a firearm or a branding iron. I think I’ve pressed my luck living by the gun. By my way of thinking, I’ve done enough fighting for any two lifetimes. I’m sick of the killing and violence and risk, besides being damn lucky to be standing here with a beautiful woman who loves me. It’s my turn to chill and live an ordinary life.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you need to learn all the verses to
Home on the Range
,” Terri said. “You’ve got a bat cave full of ammo in there. Why don’t you start seriously reloading and take the bullets to the Meraton market to sell? Or you could work on repairing guns for people. There’s more than one way to earn a buck.”

“Sell my ammo?” Bishop replied, his expression suddenly resembling that of a scolded puppy. “Umm… err… I don’t know things had gotten
that
bad.”

Terri shook her head in frustration, tempted to launch into her own temper fit. Instead, she brightened and said, “I’ve got an idea. You need a new part for your windmill and a break from your chores. Why don’t we drive into Meraton tonight and stay at the Manor? You know how calming the garden… err… the grounds are there, and we can visit with Pete and our other friends. It’ll make you feel better. What do you say?”

Bishop rubbed his chin, not sure about his wife’s suggestion.

Terri pressed, “I picked up a new bathing suit in Alpha.” Then, with her eyebrows moving up and down, she added, “It’s white. It’s sheer. The pool will be nice and cool, and then later I can show you a few other articles of clothing I found while I was in town. They’re even more revealing.”

The Texan grinned, bending down to kiss her forehead. “You’re rewarding bad behavior, you know. I’m not sure we’re setting a good example for Hunter.”

“Well… if you don’t want to see my new swimwear and pajamas, we don’t have to go.”

“Oh, no,” Bishop answered quickly, trying to recover. “I think you’re right. An evening out on the town might just help my grouchy, old self.”

“Then it’s a date,” Terri cheered. “Let’s head to the camper and get packed up.”

The first thing Bishop noted as they entered Meraton was the number of cars and pickups. “Is the market still open this late?” he asked Terri, glancing at the sunset in the rearview mirror.

“No, I don’t think so. But it’s been quite a while since we were here. Maybe they’re having some sort of celebration or holiday?”

“I sure hope there’s a room at the inn. I hate sleeping on straw with the horses.”

The next surprise came in finding a parking space.

The lot behind the Manor was full of carriages, horse teams, wagons, and motor vehicles. “This reminds me of the pre-collapse days,” Bishop complained. “I wonder what’s going on?”

There was a handful of people in the Manor’s lobby, many of them seeming to know Terri. While the small crowd gathered to “Oooh,” and “Aww,” at Hunter, Bishop made his way to the front desk.

“I’d like a room, please,” the Texan announced. “With a king bed over in the new section.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” responded the woman behind the counter with a name tag identifying her as Wauneta. “All of those are occupied. I can give you a double or two twins.”

“Fine. I’ll take the double.”

“Sure enough, Mr. Bishop,” Wauneta replied. “That will be $10, per night. How many nights will you be staying?”

“What?” Bishop replied, surprised that there was a fee. “Did you say ten bucks per night?”

“Yes, sir,” came the pleasant response. “I’m giving you the Alliance government discount, even though your wife no longer is formally part of the council.”

“But… but when did the rooms start costing anything?” Bishop asked, digging for his wallet.

A look of understanding came over the new proprietor’s face. “We have expenses, sir. It’s all part and parcel of the recovery, I suppose. I’m trying to keep the price low, but the cleaning ladies just asked for a raise, and the cost of pool supplies, gardener, detergent for the linens, and everything else just keeps going up and up.”

“I suppose,” Bishop replied, digging a Hamilton from his billfold. With a grimace, he noted there were only a few green bills left.

Next came the registration form – another surprise.

“I guess the world is recovering,” he mumbled, reaching for a pencil.

Terri appeared at his side, “Whatcha doing?”

“Did you know they’re charging for rooms now? We have to pay $10 per night.”

Shrugging, Terri responded, “Makes sense. I saw a lot of this in Alpha during my last visit. There is less and less barter, and more folks wanting currency. People have to make a living. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“I should’ve held onto the bank robber’s gold,” Bishop grunted. “I wonder what Nick did with it anyway?” he queried, only half teasing.

“They moved it to Austin a long time ago. They’re using it... and other unclaimed treasure… to back the Alliance’s new currency.”

Bishop frowned while they waited for a key. “But we’re using the old U.S. currency. I don’t understand?”

Terri grinned, “Paper money wears out pretty quickly. Diana showed me some designs for the Alliance’s bills that they’ll start minting in a few months. They need the gold to give people faith in the new currency.”

“Speaking of new money, I’m going to have to sell some of my ammo tomorrow in the market. The only bills I had were what we brought with us when we bugged out from Houston, and that wasn’t much.”

Terri, worried the topic would lower Bishop’s spirits again, quickly changed the subject. “I’ve arranged for a babysitter to watch Hunter once he’s asleep. He’s pretty pumped up seeing all these new faces, so it will be a bit. Why don’t you go visit Pete while I give him a bath and put him down. I’ll come get you when it’s time to go swimming,” she said with a wink.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no carousing, hard liquor, or brawling,” she teased.

“And no wearing a thin, white bikini to Pete’s,” he responded with a grin.

After carrying their bags to the room and making sure Terri had everything she needed, Bishop strolled through the gardens, making his way to Main Street for the short walk to Pete’s Place.

The next thing that struck the Texan as odd was the lack of firearms. Six months ago, it would have been unusual to see a man walking down the street without some sort of long gun. Now, the M4 slung over his shoulder seemed out of place.

As he progressed the few blocks to the berg’s famous watering hole, the Texan noted that all of the storefronts seemed occupied and sported goods in the windows. That hadn’t been the case just a short time ago. There was even new construction going on, some of the market’s booths being converted to more permanent structures, complete with pergolas and neatly lettered signs.

Bicycles and pedestrians were everywhere, people out and about despite the market having been closed hours ago.

And there were cops.

At the next corner, Bishop observed a police car, complete with two uniformed deputies idling nearby. It appeared as though the law enforcement presence was welcome, many of the pedestrians exchanging friendly nods and greetings with the officers.

They, however, didn’t smile when they spied Bishop’s rifle.

“Good afternoon,” one of the deputies said, stepping purposely into Bishop’s path.

“And to you, deputy,” the Texan replied, not really sure why he’d drawn their attention.

“What brings you to Meraton, this evening, sir?” asked the second lawman, now joining his partner.

For a split-second, Bishop started to tell the man it was none of his business, but he reconsidered. “My wife and I are in town for the market and a little relaxation.”

“In town from where?”

The question hit Bishop the wrong way, but again he checked his temper.
They’re only doing their jobs
, he thought.

“I’ve got a small place south and west of here,” Bishop responded nicely.

The fact that Bishop claimed to be a citizen of the Alliance seemed to help with the two officers’ attitude, but only a little. “While it’s technically not illegal, there’s no need for that weapon, sir. Meraton has law and order, and we’re trying to discourage citizens from openly displaying their firearms in public.”

“At least shoulder-fired weapons,” added the other lawman.

“I see,” Bishop nodded. “The last time I was in town, that wasn’t the case. I appreciate you two gentlemen letting me know. Next time I’ll leave it back at the room.”

“Are you staying at the Manor, sir?”

That did it, Bishop’s temper going from a slow simmer to medium boil. Technically, he was a sworn Texas Ranger, even though the honorary award had been mostly for public morale and ceremony. But that didn’t matter. It didn’t make a difference if he was a king or a pawn, the two lawmen were crossing the line. “This is becoming intrusive, guys. Where I’m staying is none of your business. Now is there anything else before I continue on my way?”

“Let’s see some ID, please,” came the command, both deputies now becoming agitated.

“ID? Are you shitting me? Did I just wake up on another planet or something? I haven’t had any ID since the world went to hell in a handbasket. You do know we had an apocalypse – right? I’m positive I wasn’t just dreaming about the collapse of society.”

“The Alliance will accept expired identification created before the event, although we highly recommend every citizen procure new documentation in Alpha or any of the other government centers.”

Shaking his head, Bishop responded, “And how much does new documentation cost?”