“You’re going with the boy and leaving me behind with the rest? I don’t believe you, Ryan.”
“He’s right,” J.B. said. “Only sensible plan. Ryan can drop off the boy and meet us all at Fairplay. That way we have a united attack.”
“I need to get to Harmony, so butt out, John!”
“It’s been years and years, lover,” Ryan said, trying to calm her. “What’s with waiting another day? Two days more at the outside?”
Krysty was suddenly close to tears. “I left on such bad terms. We’d fallen out and we nevernever got to say goodbye to each other. I want to see Mother Sonja again and tell her that I love her. That I always loved her.”
“You can do that, Krysty.” Ryan put his arms around her, and she began to pull away. But he held tighter and Krysty melted, sobbing, into his arms.
“I have to see her, Ryan.”
“Sure thing. But if Sonja’s in deep shit, then it’ll take us all to get her out of it. Agreed?”
“I guess so,” she said, then thanked Doc as the old man passed her his precious swallow’s-eye kerchief to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
Lemuel had watched the emotional scene without saying anything. Now he coughed, hawked up some dark brown phlegm and spit it onto the sidewalk. “You comin’ with me or not, mister? Another blaster or two could be useful up that trail. But I ain’t waiting while you argue the toss. Just up sticks and leave.”
Ryan nodded. “Sure, sure. Me and the boy’s coming with you on the wag.”
“And you help me unload it the other end? That’s a part o’the trade.”
“Yeah. Why not?”
He turned to Krysty. “Meet you up in Fairplay, or somewhere on the trail. Look out for me.”
“When?”
“Fireblast, I don’t know, do I? Guess it’ll likely be two or three days.”
“J.B., you sort out a couple more wags and get the teams for them.”
The Armorer touched his finger to the brim of the fedora. “Sure thing, bro.”
Dean had been standing apart from the others, waiting to see which way the bones fell. Now he moved to stand by his father. “That mean I got to say goodbye to everyone? Mebbe for a year or so? That’s like forever.”
J.B. shook his head. “Wrong, Dean. When you get a little older you’ll know that forever is forever.”
Chapter Twelve
The upright piano had been manufactured by Gothstein of Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
Ryan knew that because it said so in a convoluted golden Gothic script, just above the keyboard. It was made of mellow beech, ornamented with inset maple and had obviously been constructed some time before skydark.
He was sitting on the rear of the wag with Dean, squeezed in by the piano, perched behind Lemuel; who was whipping up his team of eight mules.
It was difficult to know which smelled worse, the man or his animals.
The tearful farewells in Glenwood Springs had been intense and hasty.
Everyone had hugged Dean, telling him again and again that they’d be up to see him and that the year would race by, and think what a different person he’d be when next they saw him.
The boy had borne it well, only crumbling and sobbing when Doc stooped over and embraced him.
“Don’t want no education,” he cried. “Don’t want none of that stinkin’ thought control they give you in schools. I do all right without it.”
“But you’ll do so much better with it, dear boy,” Doc said, tears glistening among the silvery stubble on his chin. “Wisdom is power. The pen is mightier than the sword.”
“Next time we face a gang of stickies, I’ll keep the Uzi and you can have a drawing pencil, Doc,” J.B. called, trying to lighten the moment.
“I know what you mean,” Dean said. “Know I’m a real stupe with no book learnin’. Never had time when I was with Rona. Just had to keep moving the whole time.”
Ryan had placed his hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Right. And that’s just what’s happening here with us, son. No time to stop and breathe. No time to look at a book or smell a flower or just go for a walk for the joy of it. That’s what Mr. Brody’s school should give you.”