Kennedy Hoss of Musket

Chapter 3: A Visit With Hall

The closest house to the gate belongs to Hal Tennison. Hal reminds me a lot of this picture book I used to have called "It Takes A Village" that takes place in West Africa. Hal reminds me of the little brother in that story, while the rest of us Musketinians are the people of the village looking out for him, even though he is 77 and should be capable of it himself.

As I ride across to Allderman's, I notice old Hal sitting on the porch the way he always does. He has his cowboy boots with the heels on today, so I can tell he's in a good mood. I met Hal through my father, who used to shine his boots for him. Hal lost his family to the outbreak, so a lot of the townsfolk like to visit him.

My father had explained to me ahead of time about Hal's family and his brain. He explained to me that some people have a different way of dealing with grief, and can act very unpredictably if you trigger bad thoughts for them. Hal is a skinny, dark-skinned, liver-spotted and wrinkly man with puppy dog eyes and white hair and bushy eyebrows. I remember upon seeing him playing with his kendama that all my worries about triggering a violent murderer had vanished as quickly as they had come.

After my dad had gotten sick, I still would take his little shoe shining kit to Hal's and shine is boots as thoughtfully as I could, taking my time on every inch of his boot. He once told me, "Laura wore her heels when she was happy, and so I wear mine! That's how I'd know she loved me." Hal would sometimes tell me jabout Tyler or Sally, his kids, but this was extremely rare.

I halt my bike by his front porch and dismount. He's rocking in his creaky rocking chair staring into the distance. He isn't wearing his heels today, so I pick bound up the front porch steps to make sure he's okay.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Tennison?" I ask. I'm standing on his right side where his good ear is.

Hal tugs at his overall straps and looks over at me. There are more furrows in his forehead then there had been before. He pulls himself from the rocking chair and studies the sky.

"Do you feel that, Kennedy?"

"Feel what?"

Hal presses a finger to my lips and motions to his yard. I hold my breath.

There's an unfamiliar presence in the air, sort of like that resembling the feeling in the air before a storm, but stranger. What sort of storm was this going to be?

Hal picks up his foot and slams it down into the porch. A flock of birds suddenly rises and flies through the air.

"It's not safe here," Hal murmurs, watching the sky, "something's coming for us."

I take Hal's soft wrinkly hand in mine and stroke the veins.

"It's probably a storm," I say, "I have to stop at Allderman's, but afterwards I'll come back and we can set up base in the storm cellar, alright?"

Hal shakes his head and looks down at me. He closes his other hand around mine and replies,

"It's not that kind of storm."