Up in Smoke

3.4

On Good Friday, Tommy took us all on a little outing. Well, the 'outing' was to the woods. It was the boys, me, Uncle Charlie, Curly, and a few of our men. 

I joined the boys hunting this year. Usually, I don't go but for whatever reason, they dragged me along. I think Tommy wanted me to try out the new bow and arrow he bought me. I mentioned archery to him one time and days later I had an entire kit. Of course, it was top-of-the-line stuff. 

As we walked along, we came across a buck in a field. He was huge! Tommy turned around to look at me. He wanted me to take the shot. I shook my head as I looked at the other boys. I wasn't given a choice. The buck hadn't even seen us yet. He was too busy grazing on the grass by his feet. 

I rolled my eyes as I loaded my bow. I felt horrible about this. This poor innocent buck was just out to eat. Now he's going to be our dinner. 

I adjusted my feet before taking a breath. I made sure I was perfectly in line before letting the arrow do the job. "Nice shot, Anna," Arthur patted me on the back as he walked past me. I followed behind the boys as they went to inspect the buck. 

We took it back to camp for the men to prepare for the night. The camp was just out in the middle of the woods. Tommy didn't believe in tents. All we needed was a fire and each other. 

I sat by the small fire watching Finn and John play fight. "Watch it, he's a got a mean left hook," Arthur warned John. Tommy sat down in the chair across from me. 

"Arthur, John, Finn. Come here," Tommy waved them over. 

"Alright, what is it?" Arthur plopped down in a chair. 

"This letter says that Dad's dead." Tommy held up a crumpled-up piece of paper. 

He handed it to Arthur before thinking of what to say. 

"He was in Boston in a bar called the Mickey Free. Two men waiting in an alley. He was shot twice."

"Who's Rosie Rice," John asked after he scanned over the letter. 

"Some fucking whore," Arthur mumbled. 

"She is a woman who took the trouble to write us. And she wanted us to know that during the night, while he was dying, he asked for our forgiveness. The only thing he ever taught us was how to kill and cut a stag. Finn, Anna, John, you won't remember."

"I remember. Cannock Chase. Parked up at a pub called the Griffin. He got drunk and sang Silver Dagger about 100 times," John reminded. 

"Yeah. One weekend. One weekend he was like that," Arthur defended. 

"The stag is to remember him. We eat and then we forget him. No need to forgive him. Agreed," Tommy asked. 

"Agreed," I groaned as the rest of the boys nodded. 

"John, I have to say this. You can name your new baby after him if you like," Tommy said. 

"No."

"Arthur, and I won't even ask. So his name dies. It's been in the family for a long time, but now it's gone. Alright, that's done. Fuck him." The boys all spit in the fire. "Before we cook and eat, there's some business. Boys!" Tommy waved the rest of the men over. 

Once everyone was gathered, Tommy began to explain everything. 

"I wanted to say this out here, 'cause I don't trust the maids in the house. There's gonna be a robbery." We gathered around a table to look at the map. It was going to need a lot of planning. We needed to get away with this. 

"It's about 2 hours of work. Bit of grease on your cuffs, and that's it."

"Tommy, should I really be here for this," Michael asked.