“I’ll be back tonight,” he told himself, but he prepared to be away indefinitely.
At the airport, he followed the convergence of tire tracks to the staff parking lot, which sat a few hundred yards away from the modest terminal. Robby and the rest of his people parked in a line at one end. Brad left his truck parked at the curb and walked across the snow-dusted grass to where Ted and Pete stood. They watched as the travelers consolidated possessions into a few vehicles.
For the road, they’d chosen some rugged Toyota Land Cruisers. The vehicles looked several years old, but in good condition. Frank and the smelly guy were strapping fuel cans to the roof racks while other people packed their bags into the backs of the trucks.
“That’s a lot of gas for a few hundred miles,” Ted said. He didn’t direct his comment over at the vehicles, but he said it loud enough that they would hear.
“It’s heating oil,” Frank yelled back. “We’re not running off with all the gas in town.”
“What the hell do they want with that?” Ted asked, much quieter.
“You can run them diesel Cruisers on number two oil, if you don’t mind the red stains,” Pete said. “It’s what I’m putting in those Bombardiers.”
Aside from the Land Cruisers, Frank also packed some bags into the back seat of a four-door pickup truck. Hooked to the back of this truck sat an enormous horse trailer with its back doors standing open and its ramp extended. Brad saw that the front of the trailer was stocked with bales of hay. He also noticed the well-stocked gun rack in the back window of the truck.
Brad looked up at the sky. It looked like a lousy day for traveling. The clouds formed two distinct layers. Up high, it looked like the clouds were moving slowly from west to east. Lower, much closer to the ground, a spotty layer of sooty clouds moved fast from east to west. The weather had remained roughly the same every day that Brad had been in Portland. They always had clouds, and they never had any precipitation. Oppressive, impotent, charcoal-grey skies every day made him understand why so many people were choosing to go west with Luke and the promise of sunny days in a pastoral setting.
Brad saw Ted point and followed his finger to the vehicle approaching from the far side of the lot. When the car pulled up next to the closest Land Cruiser, Brad recognized Judy behind the wheel. She got out and pulled a tiny backpack from the passenger’s seat. Robby walked over and said a few words to her and then the two of them walked away from the crowd to talk in private.
Brad zipped up his coat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“I’m cold,” Brad said to Ted and Pete. “I’m going to see if I can help. I need to move around to warm up.”
Brad walked over to the nearest people—he didn’t remember their names—and watched them moving cases of canned goods from the back of a hatchback to the rear of a Land Cruiser.
“Hey,” he said.
The nearest guy, the one with the long beard and the red flannel jacket on over his coat, grunted.
“You need help moving stuff? I’m freezing just standing around,” Brad said.
“Then don’t,” Beard said.
“Sorry?” Brad asked.
“Nobody asked you to stand around,” Beard said. “Just be on your way.”
“Oh,” Brad said. He walked back over to where Ted and Pete were standing.
“Harris hates everyone,” Ted said. “Don’t take offense.”
The three men turned their attention over to Robby, who returned to the group with Judy. Robby and Judy hugged briefly and then she got in the back seat of one of the Land Cruisers and shut the door.
Robby came over to Ted—“She agreed to take a radio, and she’ll stay in touch as long as she can.”
“Or as long as they let her,” Ted said.
“If she decides to come back, she can use the radio to link back up with us,” Robby said.
Pete interjected—“It would be real useful if we could set up repeaters when we head north. Her radio is not going to do her much good once we’ve made some distance.”
“We’ll be back this way,” Robby said. “If she doesn’t come back, we can track her down in New York.”
“Any luck on finding out exactly where they’re going?" Ted asked.
“She didn’t know,” Robby said. “None of them seem to know for sure. Not even Frank.”
“Here comes the man who does,” Ted said. He pointed his chin off to the north.
Sitting straight up with his shoulders back, Luke appeared at the far end of the parking lot riding an enormous chestnut draft horse. The horse’s blond mane fluttered back from his regal head as he trotted towards the group. Luke didn’t bounce in the saddle, but bobbed up and down with every other stride of the horse. Brad took an involuntary step backwards as the horse and rider approached. The horse seemed impossibly big as it approached.
Luke rode back and forth behind the line of cars before he edged the giant horse alongside the trailer. Luke kicked his right foot from the stirrup and swung his leg over the neck of the horse, sliding from mount facing away from the horse. He held a hand protectively on his sidearm as he dropped to the ground. Luke looped the reins over a hook on the side of the trailer and greeted the people who came to get a closer look at the horse.
Brad approached in a wide arc, careful not to step directly behind the horse. He stopped a few feet away from the horse while Luke unbuckled the saddle. Robby stepped past Brad and went to the horse’s head. He reached forward and up to stroke the horse’s nose.
“He’s beautiful. What’s his name?” Robby asked Luke.
Luke flipped the cinch over the top of the saddle and stood on his tiptoes to hook the stirrups over the horn. He pulled the saddle and blanket down into his arms.
“I call him Cincinnati,” Luke said. “Pardon me.” He ducked around Robby and carried the saddle to the front of the trailer.
Several people stood on either side of the horse, but Robby was the only one close enough to touch the big animal. Luke returned with a small stepladder and a brush.
“You want to brush him out while I get the trailer ready?” Luke asked Robby.
“Sure,” Robby said with a big smile.
As Robby climbed the ladder to start at the top of the horse’s back, Brad walked back over to Ted and Pete.
“That’s one big goddamn horse,” Pete said.
“Robby likes him,” Brad said.
“Robby needed a reason to be close to Luke. I wouldn’t conclude anything other than that,” Ted said.
“You know, I think I can smell the horse from here,” Pete said.
Ted raised his nose to the air and shielded his eyes while looking up. “I don’t think that’s the horse you’re smelling,” Ted said. “I think something is on fire.”
The radio clipped to Ted’s belt let out a squawk, followed by Lisa’s frantic voice—“Robby? Robby?”
“Lisa, this is Ted,” Ted said. “What’s going on?”
Robby, still on the step ladder, stopped brushing. Ted started walking towards him so he could hear the radio.
“Is Robby there?” Lisa asked through the radio. “Can you tell him he has to get back to his house right away? Actually, tell him not to come to his house. Tell him to come to our house, and tell him to come the back way.”
Robby climbed down from the ladder and took the radio from Ted. He leaned against Cincinnati’s broad side as he spoke into the radio – “Lisa, what’s the problem?”