Kennedy Hoss of Musket

Chapter 13: Opening

Song: Opening by Lucero (Mud Soundtrack)

I run right to the Lachovair farm, to their well planted between the store and the fields. I pull up a bucket of water and wash my mouth out with handfuls of water. By the time the coppery taste is gone, I look like a dog who has slobbered all over themselves.

As I'm washing my face, Windy walks out in a pair of red jeans with suspenders and a white T-shirt with a juice box in her hand. She certainly looks happier than she did in Allderman's the other day.

"Hey Windy," I say, scooping another round of water to my face with my hands cupped together.

"My mom doesn't want me to be friends with you anymore," she replies casualty.

I squint up at her.

"Then why are you out here talking to me?"

"Because you're using our well."

I look over at the store, but I don't see anyone.

Windy looks at me curiously. She's tall for her age, with brilliant blue eyes and a tan complexion. Though I've never said anything, I consider her to be more of a tag-along than a partner. I stand up and walk away down the rows, and soon I hear her running steps coming after me.

"I heard you broke all the jars on the tree," she says, "is that true?"

I keep walking.

"And that you set off a ton of fireworks,"

I ignore her and keep walking.

"And that Viper was called in."

I stop in my tracks and turn around to face Windy, who has to jog to catch up to me.

"Viper?" I ask. Windy nods, wide-eyed, taking a sip from her juice box.

The Lachovairs have always had connections, and I have always known it was because they were the richest family in town. Or at least that's what I always referred to them as, but my dad says in Twain they'd be considered middle-class. But by connections, I also knew they got a cut of whatever resources were brought in, which they sold in their shop. Although I know this, I have never really considered who it is that brings them these things.

"Viper," Windy says, "They came here last night in their big white truck. I don't really know what happened, I was in bed. My dad said that you and a bunch of kids were vandalizing town property, and that he had to call Viper to come scare you off."

We have telephone poles in Musket, sure, but only Dr. Rosary and the Lachovairs had them. I could understand why Dr. Rosary needed them, but the Lachovairs? Could they really just call up and order whatever they wanted.

Windy was a good kid. I didn't really know how much she understood about the problems in Musket as other kids did, but I knew she understood she was luckier than most kids, and I knew that she was the kind of kid who cared. But I couldn't tip her off that someone was MAKING us poor, that someone was purposely DENYING us our rights, I just didn't know how to explain to her something like that. How I could I tell her all this, and that this so called "Viper" might even have something to do with it?

"A white truck?" I say, as if surprised,

"Yes, there was definitely one of those."

I think of the bruise on my stomach, aching as I walked down the rows.

"What did they do?" She asks, her interest peaked.

I thought carefully, replaying the scene in my mind. The headlights blazing through the darkness, the big white truck slowly rolling towards me... The blast of water. Crow in my arms. A tiny prickle of embarrassment flicks over me, and I'm glad Windy can't see it.

"They just drove slowly through the crowd, told us to go home, I dunno, it was only scary because we didn't expect them or know who they were." I stop and turn around to look at Windy.

"Oh."

"'Oh'? Haven't you met them before?"

Windy wiggles the straw around in her juice box.

"No, they always come really really late at night, usually on Wednesdays, sometimes Mondays, I'm usually asleep. I only know they come because my mom or dad says, 'Windy come help with the new stock, Viper came yesterday' and there's usually crates of food and stuff and I have to help them put it on the shelves."

The gears in my head spin wildly. Today was a Friday, and the riot had happened Thursday. It couldn't have been a coincidence, Mr. Lachovair really did have connections to this so called "Viper", and it sent butterflies thundering in my stomach.

"Windy," I say quietly, taking her hans, "we should have a sleepover on Sunday, we'll stay up really late and see if we can see Viper. Don't you want to?"

Windy stared at the ground, she was thinking, but I could tell she was on board.

"That sounds really fun," Windy said quietly, "I'd really love to do it! But there's just one problem."

I make a point of making my arms and legs droop like a dying flower.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Well it could work," Windy says, "Because you're old enough to walk here and stuff, but it's just that my parents really despise you and stuff."

I try not to frown. Like I said, Windy's a good kid, but every kid can be bad once in a while.

"How about I sneak in your window?" I suggest, my eyes wide, "I'll stay up all night with you! And if Viper comes, we'll get to see it! And before everybody wakes up in the morning, I'll sneak out and wait for you to get up, and then we'll sneak a picnic basket down by the river and we'll have breakfast together, doesn't that sound fun? I do it with my friends all the time!"

Windy doesn't miss a beat.

"Wait, what friends?" She asks.

Even though she was younger, Windy apparently still had my social life pretty well interpreted.

"I had one with Crow last night," I insist, "it's what friends do."

"You slept over a BOY'S house?" Windy looks at me like I'm the coolest person she's ever met. Like I've just gotten a home run in one go or caught a flaming football with my eyes closed.

It was the truth, just not in the casual way friends have sleepovers as she thought. I was surprised she didn't think ill of me for vandalism. Windy didn't know what happened last night, I hadn't confirmed or denied anything. But as far as she knew, according to her dad, me and a bunch of other troublesome teenagers had torn off all the jars on the tree and had a big firecracker party. I felt guilty that she trusted me after being told this.

"Yeah, but all we did was sleep. We were too tired to watch TV or play board games or anything like anything. We just slept." I pause, and then add, "By the way, we weren't vandalizing anything. We just thought that all those jars were sad, and that the ashes should be free, to go somewhere happier."

"I know," Windy replies, as if she knew it all along.

"WWWWIIIIINNNNDDDYYYYY!" A voice calls above the rows. She turns and calls back,

"CCCCCCCCOOOMMMIINNGG!"

She turns to me discretely.

"I'll leave my window open. Sunday night. Nine o'clock, okay?"

I nod, "Monday, nine o'clock."

Windy gives me the biggest smile before turning and running back down the rows. As I watched her small body become smaller and smaller, I felt the guilt bashing my heart. I had manipulated her for my own personal reasons, and it was selfish, but it was an opening.