Thursday, November 08, 2007

Day 7: 10,050 (18064 book/ 83446 total)

It may not look like it, but I'm really struggling here the last couple days. Part of it is the cold from hell that just will not leave me alone. Another part is my wrist, which is hurting more again. And there are other things, but we'll see how that goes by mid-month. With luck, something will work out right.

Of course, Luck and I haven't been well acquainted lately, so I'm not really counting on her showing up now.

Here's another short piece from the western. It's been kind of fun to do (despite the struggle part), and if I could just get a better handle on what I want out of this story, I think it would all work out. About a third of the way through the required count now, though, so I guess I'll probably do all right!


"Come on. You did your part today. It's time you were part of the crew," Mr. Weaver said.

Storm gave a reluctant nod, patted the horse and took a step forward --

And went straight down.

"Damn, boy --"

"All right," he said, but he moved his right leg carefully now. "Just need to rest a bit. I'll pass on dinner tonight."

Kitt shook his head and dropped down on his heels. He reached toward the leg, but Storm lifted his hands and pushed him away.

"Leave it be. Just go. I'll be fine."

Weaver tapped Kitt on the shoulder and nodded. He didn't want to go, but he knew forcing the boy to deal with the weakness and show it to them was not the thing to do. He found it annoying, but he stood.

"I'll bring you back some food."

He started to shake his head, and then changed his mind. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

It was something of a small win, at least.

He and Mr. Weaver left the barn together. Carl Weaver was shaking his head.

"The boy has been no trouble," Kitt said. "I'm surprised to find myself say it, but I like having him around. He gets things done."

"And no trouble with the men. I thought they'd cause some trouble about him being in the bunkhouse."

"I'm sure they would if the boy ever slept there." They slowed and Carl Weaver looked at him with a shake of his head. "The kid does his work. He comes in on time from wherever he sleeps, and he goes straight to work. He never complains and he never gives up. I'd say I'd like to have a dozen more like him, but there are other aspects that drive me crazy."

"Like the fact that we can't help him."

"That. And that he mistrusts everyone. I suppose that's natural, being what he is and all. But he should learn to know the difference."

"And then there's the other problem we saw today," Mr. Weaver said. He looked back over his shoulder. "I'd say the boy knows no fear, but I think it's something else entirely. I think he just doesn't care."

That wasn't a pleasant thought. Kitt looked back as well. "That would make him damn dangerous, wouldn't it, sir?"

"Yes, it would. I don't think he would do anything to hurt others. In fact, the opposite is obviously true. It's not like Berto is a friend of his, but he risked his life to protect him. But if he doesn't care, there's no telling what he might do."

"And we can't keep him safe, either," Kitt said.

Mr. Weaver nodded. Neither of them looked very happy about it.
Posted by Picasa

No comments: