Mr. Shivers

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In the morning they readied to leave. Pike accepted the food the Hopkinses could spare, though he denied it first out of politeness. Connelly was looking over the cars and their packs once more when Lottie came to him.

“We need to talk,” she said.

They walked away from the ring of cars. She led him down to the creek and said, “I’m not going.”

“I know,” he said.

“You do?”

“Figured as much.”

“Are… are you mad?”

He shook his head.

“I thought you would be,” she said.

“No. I’m not.”

She shut her eyes. “I thought you would be. I said I was in this, I said I wanted to see this man dead.”

“I know,” he said again.

“Yes, but do you know why?”

“No. I don’t need to.”

“But I want you to. Let me speak my peace.” She rubbed her temple. “Back there on the train, did you see?” she said.

“See what?”

“When I… When I shot that man, you could see him… Did you see what I… What I…”

“I saw.”

“Did I… Did I kill him?”

Connelly thought. He looked at the ground and said, “No.”

She let out a breath. “No? I didn’t?”

“No. You missed. It scared him. He moved away and while he was trying to reload he lost his balance and fell.”

“I could have sworn I-I…”

“You didn’t,” said Connelly flatly.

She touched her cheek, fingers caressing where the drops of blood had fallen. She shook herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to kill a man. I don’t ever want to have that on me. If the man we’re chasing was dead and gone it would be all right but I think there’s more killing between all of you and him. Do you know that?”

Connelly nodded.

“I was thinking… Connelly,” she said. “You… you shouldn’t go, either. I don’t think I can convince any of the others but, well… I don’t think this is worth it anymore. I mean, you met this family. They’d let us come with them. They’re nice and there’s good things waiting for them. I know. I know it in my bones.”

Connelly stood for a long time. Then he shook his head.

“For God’s sake, Connelly, men are dead—”

“There were dead before this,” said Connelly. “Long before.”

“But—”

“We speak for them. We speak for the dead. To do right by them.”

“And this is the way you’d do it?”

“Doesn’t seem to be another.”

“Connelly, nothing good will come of this. There are people looking for you. And if you all keep on like this, more people are going to be after you. More bloodshed. More tears. More dead to speak for. We got a chance at something good here. Don’t pass it by. Don’t.” She smiled. “There are people who like you here, Connelly. That family. They like you. That girl, I think she likes you. And she… she isn’t the only one,” she said softly, and touched his arm.

Connelly breathed deep, then bowed and shook his head again. “It isn’t good to me.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“That’s the way it is. I look at these people and I just know. I look at you and know these things aren’t for me. Not yet. I-I can’t go back. It’d be wrong to do that, to abandon this and let him go on. To let my little girl’s death go unanswered. But… this family. You. Maybe one day I can have things like that. But it isn’t for me. Not now.” He took a breath. “This is all I got now. This is all I got. All I am. Just chasing him.”

Lottie closed her eyes, wiped them. “You have a choice…”

“I know I do. I’m choosing to make this right. And I can.”

“You don’t want to come with me? At all?”

“I-I do. You know I have a wife?”

“I remember.”

“I’d like to go back to that. One day, to the way things were in the beginning. But I can’t yet. And, Lottie, once this was done, if it was so that I could never find her again or if she wouldn’t welcome me home, then I would come to you. I would. But I have to do this. I have to.”

She looked at him for a moment longer, then walked back to the camp without saying anything. He waited for a second and then followed.

It went much as Connelly had expected. Lottie spoke to them a few paces away from the camp so the Hopkinses would not hear. Connelly did not come close, so he could not hear everything that was said, nor did he want to.

Pike became angry right away. He shouted at her, pounding his fist into his hand, pointing off into the west and throwing biblical language at her alongside curses about the weaknesses of bitchery. This she took without the slightest reaction. Then Roonie wept and she comforted him, holding him in her arms, his crooked fingers playing with her hair. Monk tried to reason with her, blustering and confused, but she simply shook her head. And Roosevelt and Hammond stayed quiet, Roosevelt looking nervous and Hammond standing ramrod-straight, his narrow, handsome features pulled taut, his mouth in a hard grimace.

Then the words finished. Lottie nodded, then walked back to the Hopkinses with a queenly, steady stride, though as she walked by Connelly he could see her fingers trembling. She spoke to Missy and the other woman listened and embraced her hard, and Lottie hugged her back. The children came down and began bombarding her with questions, spinning around her feet. Connelly watched them. Watched their passion for one another. Their happiness in being one.

Clark came and spoke to him. “You sure you boys are going to be all right?”

“I suppose,” said Connelly.

“We’re happy to have her aboard, you know.”

“I’m sure she’s happy to be with you.”

“We could use you, sir. We could use all of you. It’s more mouths, sure, but it’s more hands working.”

“We have business in the west,” said Connelly.

“Who doesn’t,” said Clark. He looked at Connelly sadly. “If times were different, I-I…”

Connelly nodded. “If things were different,” he said.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for. Whatever’s in all of you is burning you up. I can see it.”

“Maybe so. I think it’s best we all get going. We’re wasting daylight.”

They shook hands.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” said Clark.

“Sometimes I think I’ll see everyone again,” Connelly answered.

Clark walked back to the cars and they started up, a small armada of crumbling machinery shuddering in the field. One by one they lurched forward, gravel crunching under the tires, and they made their way to the road. Everyone waved, each car a heap of junk and waving white arms. The children cheered and the men called good luck and the women waved as well. With a great belch of dust the jalopies picked up speed and soon were moving down the road, speeding away, south and west.

Connelly and the others went north. It was not until nightfall that he realized Lottie had not looked at him once after their discussion, nor had she said goodbye.