The First Age

He walked with his head down and gloves buried in pockets. There were no more eyes out for coyotes. He had to hold to luck that no more would show up. Crossing paths with another pack wasn't going to go well.

He was shivering almost uncontrollably. Yep, definitely going to die out here. This was a bad idea. Bad idea. At least shivering was a good sign, he told himself. It was when you stopped shivering that things were serious.

His legs were tree trunks. His feet trudged through wet cement. Joints stiff, mouth parched, he would have stopped to cup a mouthful of snow to his lips, but it would only lower his body temp faster.

The wind howled mocking roar by then. Every snowflake cut like crystal knives into his face, blasting it raw. Teeth clenched, he had to find something to focus on. To shove all the pain and fear of slowly freezing to death into some compartment in his head and torch it. No Marine survived hell week of basic training without a coping mechanism. It helped. The flame was an old friend. He kept walking. All he had to do was keep walking. One step at a time. One step at a time.

A flicker of light tugged the corners of his eyes. He was afraid to stop and look at it, fearing he wouldn't start walking again. Two white beams of headlights. 100 yards ahead. He could have laughed if his cheeks could move. A car.

But then the car turned. No. No! He rushed forward, or tried to. He waved. He yelled. His hands fumbled with the rifle, but he was too slow. The car turned away. He dropped his hands to his sides. Shotgun dropped. He stood there in the silence of snow. The car was too far to even hear the engine.

When he fumbled for pockets again, his fingers grasped something he'd forgotten.

The flare.

Teeth grit, he willed his aching fingers into submission. He lit the sucker and held it high above his head, waving the burning red flame like a beacon with burning arms, and silently begged for the driver to notice.

The car stopped. His breath caught, his heart pounded. Did they see?

When the vehicle turned around, he dropped to his knees and thanked god, if he was listening.

---

Somehow, he made it almost half way home, he came to learn. The driver was one of the neighbors that Jay was too numb to even care to recognize. He was mostly just grateful for the warmth and ride. The house was dark. Dad's truck wasn't there. The back door was locked so Jay had to pound on it to get someone to let him in.

The heat of anger wasn't enough to keep Jay from shivering. He all but fell inside. When mom opened the door, the hot air slammed his face so hard it was difficult to take a deep breath.

Lights flicked on in rapid succession, but Jay paid them little mind, nor who was in the room with him as he stripped from the gear. Mom told Cayli to go back to bed. Jay grit his teeth and searched for signs of his sister, but blankets were thrust around him and he was led to the fireplace.

After he had a cup of hot water nestled in his hands, he drank greedily. The stream of questions returned, but he finally found the voice to answer. Yes, he had been stranded. No, he didn't know where dad was. Yes, he walked. Yes, he could have died. No, he didn't want to go to the hospital.

The second cup turned to hot tea with lots of sugar to pump up his blood sugar, the sloshing in his head calmed and he was able to focus on his family. Mom was haggard looking in a robe that Jay swore she had since he was a little kid. Shadows chased Cayli's eyes during a wide, toothy yawn. No point telling her to go back to bed. He had hoped she would leave before interrogating mom over their dad's whereabouts, but she was as stubborn as the rest of them.

"Where's dad?"
He asked. He fixed mom with as gentle and firm a stare as he could muster in the situation. She pursed her lips and waved the question away, but Jay's gaze grew sharper. "Don't cover for him."
His skirting responsibility to their family could have cost Jay his life tonight. Worse, he left mom and Cayli home alone for half the night. It was well past midnight. Oddly enough, mom's worry for her son didn't seem to extend to dad.

Her answer took him by surprise. "I'm sorry, son. I thought you had gone with him." He shook his head. Where in the world could they have gone together at this time of night? A bar, maybe? They'd been coming home exhausted every night. Jay wasn't exactly in the mood for bars. Not when he could drink tequila in the comfort of his own underwear in his room. Bars tended to frown on that.

"Clearly I didn't. Where is he, mom?"


She glanced nervously at Cay. Jay frowned. His sister looked nervous. They both knew.
"He's at Trade Winds," she said quietly and turned away.

Jay blinked. "A fucking casino?"
Everything swirled in his head. The employees all let go over the past few years. No money for metabolic feed. The equipment falling in disrepair. Mom's haggard appearance. The canned food. All of it. His mind raced. How bad off were the finances? "Is it all gone?"
He whispered, stomach sick. The farm was their lives, established by a grandfather fleeing the worst of World War II. They all knew the story. Sacrificed. Siblings lost. Family lost. All for a chance to escape hell and start again. Most of his life confiscated in the war, but enough treasure was salvaged to buy some land. All that remained of that life was the dirt around them. If the business went under and the land sold off parcel by parcel to pay the debts. Jay wanted to be sick. He never wanted to be a farmer, but he didn't want it to disappear either.

Mom frantically shook her head. "No, no. Jay nothing like that. It's why I didn't want to tell you. It's no big deal."

Anger burned his veins hot. "Why isn't he home yet?"


She stammered. Jay considered putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, but he was afraid if he rose he would punch a hole in the wall. Best to stay sitting. "If he drinks too much to drive home he will stay the night at the hotel."

Something snapped in his head, a decision reached. A calm sort of fury that gave him the focus to put a bullet in El Tiburon's head. As he had no intention of taking anything out on mom and his little sister, the two most innocent people in the world, he calmly rose to his feet and channeled every ounce of energy into retreating to a bedroom and closing the door gently, avoiding both their gazes. They needed to be spared the demons he knew hovered about his expression.

The next morning, Jay sat at the kitchen table nursing a warm cup of coffee in the palms of his hands. The skin under his eyes was stretched thin, his shoulders drooped. The last few hours of sleep wasnt exactly restful. That, and, they needed to be on the road again soon. Another day, another herd to keep alive. The water troughs would all be frozen over. The feed would need put out. Wind screens would need fixed. Jay sighed. It was already past 7 am and dad wasn't home yet. As he had possession of the only working truck, he was going no where.

A quarter after, Jay was refilling the cup when the rumble of an engine drew close. Dad labored out of the truck looking well-rested and spritely when he came through the back door. Jay was leaning against the kitchen counter when they locked eyes.

"Mornin' son. Didn't see the pickup. Thought you'd be out and gone already."
he grumbled, clearly not expecting to find his kid waiting for him. Mom and Cayli were already warned to stay out of this.

Jay calmly took a sip of coffee. "That's right. It is morning. And you're just now getting home. Where you been?"
Might as well give his dad a chance to explain. Not that the same courtesy would have been extended if circumstances were reversed.

Dad stripped himself of his outer layer coats and left the boots in the corner. A puddle of water pooled on the linoleum where he tossed them. "Just ran an errand,"
he mumbled.

Liar. Jay nodded. His chest tightened.
"So where'd you park the pickup?"
He asked as he rummaged through the cabinets for a clean cup.

"Out in the north east pastures,"
Jay replied as his grip tightened on the mug.
"Huh?"
Dad shot a confused look over his shoulder.

"Yeah about a minute after you drove out of sight. The transmission died and I couldn't get the fucker to get into gear. Since I couldn't get a hold of you and you didn't think to check and see if I made it home alright, I was forced to abandon it on the slope, walk home. It was a good walk. Saw some wildlife. Killed a pack of coyotes. Pretty sure I have permanent nerve damage in some toes. And over all was pretty worried about freezing to death. All because you went to fucking Trade Winds, left mom and Cayli home alone and acting like you have money to burn."


Dad's face was ashen. Jay forced his own emotions into that special place in the back of his mind that he went during an operation. If he didn't, he'd kill him. And as he really didn't want to kill his dad, it was best to go operator mode.

"Oh god son. I -- I dont know what to say."
He looked ill. Though whether he almost cost his son his life or because he'd been caught, Jay couldn't guess.

"Time to come clean. Tell me how bad things are, and I'll do my damndest to fix it. But first we all have to get through this weather spell. Before we lose any more assets. I'll be damned if I let a single head freeze to death now."


He downed the rest of his coffee and left to go get dressed. There was another hard day ahead of them. This time, they'd be sharing a truck until a tow could get out there.

Edited by Jay Carpenter, Feb 5 2018, 03:44 PM.

Jay shelled out 300 bucks for a tow truck to haul the pickup back to a shop. He'd thought about having it hauled to the house and attempt to fix it himself. But if the transmission needed replaced, they flat out lacked the machinery required to do the heavy lifting.

Dad was quiet most of the day. Not surprising. But then again, so was Jay. Mostly because he was too angry to bring it up.

Dinner was quick and also quiet. Mom wouldn't make eye contact with anyone except Cayli, who kept shooting dark and worried glances over at Jay. Dad left the table first. Jay almost followed him, but stopped when the phone rang with the diagnosis from the shop.

Suffice to say, Jay squeezed his eyes and told them to do what was needed while he mentally calculated how much this was going to cost.

He knocked on his parent's bedroom door. Mom peeked out, wrapped in a bathrobe and hair back in clips. She blinked in surprise to see her son standing there. "What is it, Jay?"

"I want to talk to dad."
He kept his voice as flat as possible.
She shook her head, "can't it wait till tomorrow? He's in the shower."

Jay's gut twisted. He hated that she was defending him. "Sorry mom. But no. If i'm going to be up all night, I might as well be working on this cluster-fu--"
he cast mom an apologetic look. "-on this mess."


She nodded and shut the door.

Jay was on the couch updating calculation apps on his wallet when dad came in. Jay got up before he had a chance to stammer out some kind of series of excuses again.

"You need to give me access to all the accounts. I want to see every transaction from the last three years. Tax statements. Revenue. Everything for the business and yours and mom's personal stuff as well."


Dad scrubbed a hand through his hair, stammering something. Jay pulled his feet from the ottoman while his dad fidgeted. "Dad I already know we're in shit up to our eyeballs here. Might as well let me fix it."


He turned with this woeful look on his face. Jay frowned. "What do you not want me to see?"


Dad grew paler. Jay got up and went to him. They normally stood eye to eye and had ever since Jay was 14. Now, the eyes that were always a source of strength and reliability glistened with emotion. Jay wanted to shake him.

Then, when he finally spoke, Jay barely heard the words. They washed over him like water on sand, erasing every coherent thought.

Cayli is dying of cancer?

He stood there, speechless, as his dad starting weeping.

"What?!"
Jay demanded, only to be quickly sushed.
"Keep your voice down, won't you!"
Dad interrupted. "She doesn't know."


Jay didn't know he could be even more shocked, but his voice lowered to a soft whisper of compliance. "What the hell?! What do you mean she doesn't know?"


Dad turned toward the mantle on the fireplace. It was decorated with a dozen photo frames of the lives of their children. "We've taken her to doctors. The bills are extensive. They've done lots and lots of tests. We told her she has mono. There was no point in scaring her. But, Jay, the doctors say there's nothing they can do. They can't even identify the source of it, but it's spread to her whole body."


Jay's jaw slowly dropped. It did explain a lot. Cayli didn't act like herself. She went through really bad spells, but then seemed to bounce back. Enough that Jay just thought she was tired with the winter. The weather. Maybe a virus. Teenagers are weird. Then there was the day he took her to wal-mart and how protective mom had been at the time, like she hated to see her daughter out of her sight.

If Jay hadn't been wrapped up dealing with his own demons, he would have noticed. He should have noticed. He might be sick.

"We gotta tell her,"
he said quietly.

Dad spun, anger pinching his wet eyes. "That's exactly why we didn't tell you."


Jay blinked as dad went on. There was something in his gaze Jay never realized before. He took a step back while dad went on.

"We know how close you two are. You'd tell her despite our wishes to protect the last of her innocence. Look at her, Jay. She's happy. She's living her life. All that would be gone. And for what?"


Jay stared. Torn. Dad was right. He was on the verge of running to Cayli that very moment to tell her the truth. But doing so would only kill her faster. Dammit. He was right.

"That doesn't explain the gambling. Pissing money away you don't have."
He uttered through grit teeth.

Dad shrugged. "Cay is fading. You didn't want any part of this farm. You jet off to god knows where. With the battles against that fucking Custody trash, we expected the call about you any day. What does money matter when your family falls apart?"


Jay had no words. He collapsed to the ottoman, face in his hands.

How to fix this?

The cold spell finally ended, and the toils out in the fields reverted to their normal level of suck. Really, it wasn't that bad. A couple hours of work to get the blood pumping, back for breakfast, then the morning spent rounding up the heads for regular care, swapping fields, vaccines, that sort of thing. Done from horseback, well that made the chore far more fun. Casey was a former racehorse, retired, but strong. The red was nibbling at bits of grass when Jay noticed the first flowers of the season popping up. Really, he could stay out there all day. For a moment, he wondered why he ever wanted to leave.

He pat the red as they went on their way. It wasn't that far. Back in the barn, he was walking Casey to his stall when he heard grunts coming from the tackroom. Peeking in, he found Cayli trying to pick up a crate.

"Whoa there,"
he called and barely managed to tether Casey to a hook before rushing in to help. His baby sister eagerly surrendered the heavy load. "What are you doing out here by yourself? Picking up heavy shit you have no business moving around?"


She fixed him with a look for the swear word, then waved a hand on an umph. "I've been out here by myself since I was five, Jay."


Jay easily moved the crate of supplies out of the way. Something that only seemed to annoy Cayli, not that he did it, but that she just wasn't as strong as she wanted to be. Growing up, both of them were active kids. To do the kind of work, even basic chores, needed strength. Cayli was always strong for her age, but now she seemed fragile. Jay feared she would break like glass just looking at her.

"Sorry. Just wait for me next time. Better yet, stay inside. Rest up, study, talk to your friends."
He closed up the tack room and rescued Casey from the hook.

Cayli didn't buy it. "Since when are you telling me to not go outside. You're like the king of outside."
She rounded on Casey and scratched his nuzzle. She had cared for him almost exclusively while Jay was gone. She did a great job too.

"People change, Cay,"
Jay murmured.

"You want help with Casey?"
She asked.

"No. I got it. You can go now. Thanks."
He kept his tone flat as possible. Disinterested. Harsh, maybe. Annoyed by her presence. She looked hurt by the response, and Jay almost lost it right then.

When he was certain she was gone, he let his forehead fall to the saddle like hanging on to the reins was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

-----

Inside, he passed by Cayli watching tv without looking at her. If he had, she'd see the war all over his face. Instead, Jay quickly grabbed the computer left abandoned on the sofa and locked himself away for the rest of the night to work.

Just getting an idea of where the family (and farm) was at financially took the better part of a week. Now that the cold weather was in the past, there were more hours to focus. He was gaining traction now.

The spreadsheets made for a glow around his bed. Accounting sheets, debts, past-due bills, collectors, utilities. Then there were the operation expenses. Income in and out. Interest. Loans. Payments. By his calculations, the farm had six more months of sustainability left. That was with making two giant assumptions: that dad stopped gambling and Cayli's medical bills remained unchanged by then. Or-- if she died -- then the bills would go away completely. But funerals were damn expensive. He squeezed his eyes shut. God it was impossible. She was only 14- almost 15. How could this happen to literally the best kid in the world. Jay remembered so clearly the first time he saw her in the hospital when she was born. She was so tiny. So wiggly. Just a little wrinkly lump that spit up all over his arm when he first picked her up. He swore that day to make sure she was happy and safe. That's what big brothers did. Right? Maybe he could make a call. See if any of his buddies had a contact at some fancy hospital. Course, they didn't have insurance and couldn't pay for a dime. Jay would bankrupt himself if it meant helping her....

A ding pulled his eyes open. The blue orbs glistened in the screenlight, the only light in the whole house by then.

He lazily opened his email and blinked at the new message like he wasn't reading the name right.
Legion Premiere.

He almost closed the system down, but the temptation to look at screens rather than drift aimlessly through sleep was too strong. He opened the message on a whim.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Apr 15 2018, 08:56 PM.

Zipper closed up, Jay dropped the duffel bag at his feet and gave the room a final sweep.
Clothes. No suit. But he seriously considered buying one. Instead, dress pants and a button-up was going to have to work. Besides, his credit cards were almost full as it was.
Necessities. Wallet.

"Guess that's it,"
he said to himself.

He turned around to find Cayli hovering in his doorway. Her hair had grown in the past few months. On the way to Des Moines last weekend, she explained to him that she wanted her hair to grow out. She said she wanted to grow it out so that it could be done up in a nicer hairstyle for spring formal. That made absolutely no sense to Jay. Why would a girl grow out her hair so that it could be done up? And it had. That seemed like a good sign, Jay thought. Thinking that a dying girl would probably have brittle, thin hair, not shining, flowing locks.

Other than the hair, those downcast eyes told him what he needed to know.

"Don't give the puppy eyes, Cai."
He teased.

"How long is this trip?"


"I should be back by Sunday, if all goes well."
He replied and tossed the bag over one shoulder. He hadn't explained much about the reason to go to Morocco, other than it was for a job interview.

"What if it goes well?"


Jay thought a moment, "Hopefully I get the offer and I can start orientation right away."


"You mean move to Africa right away."
The shadow of anger touched her voice. She thought he was abandoning them. Leaving Iowa so that he could just get away from their problems. None of them realized the truth though. This job, leaving Iowa, was fixing the problem.

He murmured to himself, came closer and pushed a bit of hair behind her shoulder. "Think of all the nice prom dresses I can buy you after a big fat paycheck from those rich punk kids that can't carry their own gun."


She laughed and Jay's stomach wrenched up in knots. But he winked anyway.
"If you need anything. Even just to cry about some boy in your class. You call me. Got it?”
She nodded

”See you soon, kid."





Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jul 5 2018, 09:11 PM.