He walked on, and there were welcoming calls of, Hi Grampa and Frost, Frost, lookit all the arrows I got. They came and showed him their fistfuls of canes. Cloud and the two other girls cradled theirs in their arms. Arthurlaing said “Frost, lookit mine!”
Frost said “Do you think you got most of them?”
“I think so” said Will.
“Take them back, then. Don’t run, though. You might fall and stab yourself.”
Will and Arthurlaing walked. The others ran.
Frost watched them for a few seconds, then went on slowly to the row of targets. The plastic bags were simply draped over warped one-by-twos that were driven into the earth. About ten feet separated each target. Frost stood looking at them, almost as if he expected them to speak. He examined his hands again, detected a remaining streak of blood, wiped it against his poncho. He turned his head slightly to the right. Fundy’s Bridge was half visible, ghostly.
He went up to one of the bags. An arrow was dangling from it. He freed the arrow and turned and started back. Then he heard something behind him, a voice calling his name. From the west two silhouettes were approaching through the fog, two men.
“Their slain also shall be cast out, and their stink shall come up out of their carcasses, and the mountains shall be melted with their blood.”
Frost sighed. He watched the silhouettes take on three-dimensional form as they came closer. The tall, bald man. The young man, black haired and handsome, with his awkward lunging strides, in his real blue shirt and real trousers. No dogs today.
“And the people shall be as the burnins of lime. As thorns cut up shall they be burned in the fire.”
Frost stood there with his arrow.
“Frost! Frost!”
“You don’t have to shout, Abraham.”
And then they had stopped, each an arm’s length away, both of their faces aimed at Frost, the older man’s face aggrieved and outraged, the younger man’s eager, desperate.
“Where’s Noor? Is Noor here?”
Fundy cocked his wrist for a backhand slap, but Solomon detected the motion and stepped away before Fundy could deliver.
“When the enemy shall come like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him.” Frost glanced at the fist Fundy was waving. But there was no bible gripped in it.
“Where is she?’ said Solomon. “Is that her there? I see her! I see Noor!”
Frost sighed again and gave his attention to the arrow in his right hand, Noor’s arrow or Daniel Charlie’s. Tyrell had not lied. His eyesight had after all been remarkable.
“Will you help me, Frost? Will you help me lift up a flag against my enemies? Against your enemies?”
Solomon started off at a trot toward the crowd of people gathered near the foot of the bridge. His father ignored him, but Frost frowned as he watched Solomon grow faint in the mist.
“Will you, Frost? Be ye strong therefore, and let not your hands be weak. For your work shall be rewarded.” With the same hand that Fundy had used to threaten Solomon he reached out and seized Frost by the shoulder, and he glared with an expression both terrible and imploring.
Frost turned away from Fundy and started back, walking quickly. Fundy strode beside him, still glaring.
“Abraham, you have an irritating way of getting worked up without saying exactly what it is you’re worked up about.”
“Worked up? Why, man, what do you think I’m worked up about?” He gripped Frost’s upper arm with the hand again, a hand the size of a shovel blade, and forced him to stop walking. He lowered his voice to a powerful whisper and put his face close to Frost’s. “I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries. Yes? Yes, Frost?”
Frost neither looked into the fiery face nor replied to the plea. He walked on, watching Solomon with his lunging gait draw near to the crowd. He said “You want to talk about the bridge. You want to talk about Langley.”
“They’re down at my end now, Frost. They’re not up in the middle. I have waited for them to go away and they have not gone away. I have been patient. Behold, we count them happy which endure. But I have come to the end of my patience. I have come to the end of what I can endure. They stand there watchin’ us. They stand there laughin’. I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries.” He shook his fists again, both of them now, and addressed his glare to the fog above his head. He tried to stop Frost again, but Frost would not stop. “You’ll help me, Frost. I know you will.”
Frost said “Yes, Abraham, I will help you. I will help you by telling you to wait.”
“Are you blind, man?”
“I will not spill blood unless I have to. And neither will you.”
“We would be strong, all of us together. Don’t you see that? And now I heard that you got Wing’s men too. We’d be strong. You going to wait till he takes over my place like he took over Wing’s?”
“You’re ready, Abraham, you’re prepared. Wing wasn’t. If you let him provoke you, you will be putting all your people in danger. You could all be slaughtered. He’s up to it. I’m telling you to wait.”
Close ahead the assembly of archers and watchers was shifting, losing whatever organization it had possessed. Tyrell and Daniel Charlie had placed themselves between Solomon and Noor. Solomon was trying to dodge around them, scattering the piles of arrows, calling “Noor! Noor!” People backed away with their bows. Loose bows were snatched off the ground to save them from damage. Behind the crowd, in the gloom under the bridge, Brandon was steadily cursing Frost.
Fundy passed Frost as if they were in a footrace. But a few paces from the gathering he stopped. He threw up his hands and bellowed “Frost’s people! Frost’s people! Listen!” Everyone stopped moving, even Solomon for a few seconds. They waited for Fundy to say what he was going to say.
He said “If you wait he will take this farm. He will take my farm, and then he will take this farm. He took Wing’s farm, and I don’t know why you think he’s going to set there on my bridge forever and a day. ’Cause he ain’t.”
“Noor!” Solomon resumed his attempts. No matter how nimbly he dodged, his way was blocked by either Tyrell or Daniel Charlie. In a sudden flare of anger he stomped a foot and shrieked like a child and pushed out with both hands. He caught Tyrell square in the chest. Tyrell stumbled backwards and sat on the ground.
Fundy ignored the business with his son. He said “Frost’s people, I am askin’ you to join me. I am askin’ you to stop waitin’ and to rise up. To rise up before it is too late.”
But no one was listening to him. With a snarl Tyrell hurled himself toward Solomon. Frost rushed forward to help Daniel Charlie restrain Tyrell. Solomon backed away and was for a moment still and quiet.
Now Noor walked around the edge of the crowd to where Solomon stood cowering. She took Solomon’s hand and led him to stand near his father. Still holding his hand, she said “Hello, Solomon. How are you?” The mist had left a veil of droplets on her coarse, tied-back hair, and the skin of her face was soft from the moisture. She smiled.
Solomon said “I’m fine, thank you, and the Lord’s blessins on you.”
“It’s nice of you to come and visit me.”
Tyrell was taking deep breaths and looking at the ground. He nodded. Frost and Daniel Charlie let him go.
Everyone except Fundy was now watching Noor and Solomon. Through narrowed eyes Fundy was glaring at Tyrell.
Solomon said to Noor “I came to say I love you. I love you, Noor.” There was a warped, quacking character to his speech. From somewhere among Frost’s people came snickers. Noor ignored a speck of spittle which had landed on her cheek. Solomon lifted his free hand to pull her to him, but she took the wrist and placed the hand at his side, and he kept it there.