Tyrell doubled over blasting out his ear-splitting laugh. Frost lowered the wagon bed and closed the tailgate. He picked up a potato and wiped the dirt off and went and let Beauty eat it from his hand.
Langley remained at the top of his steps. He said “You bring an army to deliver potatoes. I always heard you was nuts, now I know it. Now get your goddamn crew off my property.” He turned to go back inside.
Frost looked in Langley’s direction at last. He said “Why’d you take Fundy’s bridge?”
Langley came halfway down the steps. His voice grew high pitched. His face grew red. “That there Fundy is a cranky old bastard, ain’t he. I’m stayin’ out of his way till he calms down. Then I’m going to tell him he ought to shift his crew over to your place. You got room. You also got the milk of human kindness. He’ll see reason.”
“So you want his farm. I thought so. Well, Fundy’s not interested in moving.”
“He better get interested. You tell him that, Frost. That trip to Town ain’t getting’ any shorter. I got better ways to spend my time than travelin’ all day.” He came all the way down the steps, gritted his teeth and punched Freeway hard in the kidney. Freeway cried out and dropped his sword. Langley picked it up. His face was blood-bright. He screamed “Get out of them potatoes. Get out or I’ll skewer your gizzard.”
Freeway pulled a foot out and stepped to the side of the pile. He pulled the other foot out. His cut-down rubber boot stayed behind. Tyrell laughed again. Langley glared at Tyrell, who hefted his spear and smiled back.
Frost strolled between his guards and Langley’s and stood looking into Langley’s poppy field. He said “You’ve got your own town.”
Langley walked behind Frost’s guards. Tyrell followed Langley. Langley still had Freeway’s sword. He walked past Frost and turned and faced him.
“Town?” he said. His voice had an angry whine to it. “You call Wesminister a town? It’s not a town, it’s a hole, and the hole is empty. Nothing left that I could use. All gone. Just a lot of drug addicts scrounging around for something to trade and not finding it.” He spat between his feet and Frost’s. He turned and faced his field. “Just like these sad losers.”
The workers, who had been watching the events up by the house, went back to work. They moved mechanically but very slowly, bending to grasp a pod with one hand, working to break it free, dropping the pod into a container.
Langley said bitterly “You’re lookin’ at more residents of the famous town of Wesminister, as soon as the crop is all in. More useless scroungers for the famous town.” Frost and he watched the workers for another minute. “There’s a whole other town full of stuff and full of people lookin’ for work just across Fundy’s bridge. No way I can stay here. Tell Fundy that.”
Frost said “You killed someone at the market.”
Langley shrugged, and did not turn when he spoke. “I did. True. That tall one-shoed lump of meat I got that looks somethin’ like a man ain’t completely useless. What do you think of my jacket? Real leather. When’s the last time you seen a real leather jacket, old man?” Suddenly he turned to Frost. “Speakin’ of meat, have you got any? You’ve got a farm — you must have some meat.”
Frost said “Show me your field” and took a step forward.
Langley blocked his path. “No way, farmer. You stay the hell away from my crop.”
Over Langley’s shoulder Frost was watching one of the female workers come up the path, carrying a basin heaped with pods. She was naked and walked very slowly. Her skin was brown from the weather and was shrunken against her ribs. Her arms and legs were sticks. She dumped her basin in the A-frame, near the man who was crushing pods, and started back to the field.
Langley turned to see what Frost was looking at. He smiled. He called to the woman “Hey. Come here.” The woman turned. “Yeah, you. Get up here. Move it.”
The woman came up the path. She held her grimy blue basin by its edge and let it hang at her side. There was no expression on her face. “I said move it.” She managed a slow trot and soon stood before the two men. Langley said to Frost “I will trade all of my horses for that one of yours.” He pushed the woman toward the rickshaw, wiped the hand that had touched her on his jeans, walked behind his guards and climbed up onto the seat. The woman stood between the shafts. “Let’s go, horsy.” She bent, gripped the shafts and stood. She leaned forward, straining. “Off to town, horsy.” Langley leaned forward and with the point of the sword jabbed her in a buttock. The hard wheels ground on the gravel. The woman pulled the rickshaw out of the carport.
Langley’s guards stepped out of the way. Newton and Richmond also stepped aside. The dogs started a confused barking. The woman pulled the rickshaw up the driveway.
Frost commanded “Settle down.” and the dogs were quiet again.
Although he was holding his bruised kidney, Freeway laughed, a deep and helpless haw haw haw. At the top of the driveway the rickshaw turned and came back. Langley got out and walked over to Freeway. The woman fell to her knees, gasping. Langley said to Freeway “Guess who the horse is next time we go to Town.”
Freeway stopped laughing and said “Aw, Langley.”
Langley handed Freeway his sword and took a potato and went and held it out to the woman. He said “Have a spud.” She took the potato and bit into it. Langley went and stood near Frost again and said “Trade me that workhorse. I’ll give you skag forever.”
Frost said “What would it take for you to give Fundy back his bridge?”
Langley scratched his head. “Now that’s a question. Jeez, Frost, a bridge is expensive. I mean, what would you trade your bridge for? But I’m a businessman, ain’t I. So, let’s see…. Well, as you might have noticed, there’s not a hell of a lot of healthy, good-lookin’ women around. But that Noor of yours…. I would say that Noor of yours is definitely bridge material.”
Frost said “Let’s go home, boys.”
Langley shrugged and said “Whatever” and turned and called down to the man in the A-frame “Stevie. Give her a taste.”
The woman got up and ran. She pushed Boundary aside. His dog snapped at her. Langley’s guards got out of her way, as did Frost, who watched her run down the path to the A-frame.
As she neared, the man in the A-frame stood and turned. For a few seconds, Frost froze. Then he took off his glasses and held them six inches in front of his eyes and squinted. He put the glasses back on and turned to his guards and dogs and said “Speak up.” The dogs roared and snarled and strained at their leashes. Frost stepped through the dogs and up beside Marpole and said to him “I need one minute.” Then he backed away.
Marpole gave King some slack. The dog lunged at Langley. Langley backed toward the rickshaw. Frost’s other guards also let the dogs tug them forward. Langley’s guards all took a step back. Langley said “What the hell? Kill this dog, will you!” But Langley’s guards faced six dogs and six spears. They hesitated. They backed up. The guard who had tripped over the shaft tripped over it again. Tyrell ran down the path, behind Frost.
The woman had received her pinch of skag and was walking toward the other workers through the stems, with her basin and her potato. The man Langley had called Stevie stood in the entrance of the A-frame, with the hammer dangling at his side. He was tall. His long matted beard was brown like his hair but had more grey in it. The moustache drooped over his mouth. The skin of his face looked dead, as if it could be peeled away like wallpaper. One of his eyes was blue. The other one was green.
Hardly slowing, Frost collided with the man, throwing his arms around him. They almost stumbled against the stove. Frost hugged the man and said into his bare shoulder “You’re alive, Steveston. We all thought….” He stepped back and looked into the man’s eyes and gripped the man’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. The man stood there with his arms hanging. Frost took the man’s free hand and pulled him out of the A-frame. He said “Let’s go. You’re coming home.”