The World Without Flags

At the sound of my voice, Tangerine walks back another few steps. Hitching her up to the wagon was my only job, and I can’t do it. Randy is leaving to warn other little communities of the war. All he asked was that I do this one simple thing. The thought of disappointing Randy irritates me.

I hold out my hand and make kissing noises, but Tangerine just tosses her head.

“Tangerine,” I whine. “Don’t be this way. Come on, I’m not going to hurt you!” When I hear Artemis giggle again, I turn my head and scowl at her.

Artemis bursts out with a laugh. “She’s a horse, you know,” she tells me. “She doesn’t understand what you’re saying.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Do you want to do this?” I ask her. She forgets that I know she’s afraid of horses.

Artemis stops smiling immediately and shakes her head.

I’m about ready to try again when Randy suddenly appears, smiling his ivory smile. He looks at Tangerine and then at me and his smile grows larger, exposing even more of his teeth.

“Giving you trouble, is she?” he asks me. I shrug and shoot the horse a little glare of annoyance. Seeing this, Randy laughs his deep, booming laugh. “The thing about Tangerine,” he says, “is that she’s afraid of everything and everyone.” As if to prove his point, Tangerine backs up another step and whickers at us disapprovingly. Randy continues. “Thing is, just like people, there’s always something that defeats fear. You just got to find that thing. Then they do what you want them to do. “ Randy cups his hand like he’s holding oats and then holds it out toward Tangerine. Used to being fed by hand, Tangerine walks forward immediately, and Randy takes her bridle. Tangerine doesn’t even seem bothered that the hand was empty. Randy smiles down at me and hands me the bridle. “For Tangerine, that thing is her stomach.”

Once I have the bridle, Tangerine is easy to maneuver. As I hook her up to the wagon, a crowd gathers to say goodbye and see Randy off. When I’m done with Tangerine and get back to the group, Randy is saying goodbye and shaking hands. He smiles his toothy smile and winks at Artemis. She does that I’m-so-cute giggle and twists her body at the waist back and forth. Artemis steps forward and gives Randy a quick kiss on his cheek and says goodbye before she rushes away, apparently out of shyness, but I know that’s mostly a show. Guys like that sort of thing, don’t ask me why. Then Randy comes over to me and smiles but he doesn’t wink. He reaches into his jacket and takes out something and puts it in my hand. It’s a candy bar. It’s not chocolate, there hasn’t been chocolate for a long time now, but oatmeal and beet sugar, mostly, but there’s nuts too. A real treat. I smile at Randy.

“Make sure you share that with your Dad, kiddo,” he tells me. I frown.

“He’s not my Dad,” I tell him.

Randy shrugs and cocks his head to the side. “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

I don’t respond, but I narrow my eyes to let him know he’s on thin ice.

He just laughs and turns away, and I feel a little bad for getting irritated with him.  I follow and watch him leap up on the cart. He’s pretty nimble for an older guy. But then again, he’s all bones and muscle.

“Take care of yourself,” I tell him, hoping he’ll see it’s my way of letting him know I’m not really irritated with him.

“Always do,” he says. This time he does wink at me with those blue eyes of his and I can’t help but smile a little. “Up now, Tangerine!” He shakes at her reins and before I know it, the cart is clattering down the road and leaving the Homestead behind.

I don’t stay to watch him leave like a lot of people do. Instead I turn back toward our house, holding the candy bar. There’s work to do. The fields have to be plowed and planted soon, and the last few days have been a real distraction. When I get home, I hide the candy bar for later, when I can really savor it. I know I’m supposed to share it with Eric, but… well, I’m not perfect.

11

After a long day working fertilizer (shit) into the field, getting ready to plant our crops, we usually meet at the Lodge. This day is no different. The usual crowd is here: Norman, Crystal, Eric, Matt, the goon squad of Crypt, Gunner, Rebok, Pest, and Curt, Diane’s son, who’s just a year or so younger than me. Norman and Crystal are warming up some cider while the rest of us pull some benches up to the table and sit down. We all stink like a barn that hasn’t been cleaned in a week. If you don’t know what that’s like, let’s just say it’s only pleasant if you’re a maggot. The goon squad sits at another bench, poking and punching each other like they do constantly. Rebok is angry about something and the others are teasing him. Only Pest is quiet. He’s studying me, like he’s been doing ever since the news of the war. I turn away from his gaze. Spooky little freak.