Part Two, Chapter Eighteen

Donovan was waiting when Alvi and Carina arrived in the gypsy cart. Alvi pulled up behind him, set the brake and jumped down. "I'll try to make this fast," he assured her. With supple ease, he climbed up into the driver's seat of Donovan's cart and picked up the reins. Donovan fished in his jacket pocket and handed Alvi the claim ticket. Then to the older man's surprise, he didn't leave. "I thought you were going to wait with Miss Carina."

"I changed my mind," Donovan said. "I want to make sure the wagon gets packed correctly. Besides, this is supposed to be my responsibility."

"You are either very brave or very arrogant," Alvi chided.

Donovan gestured at his new black clothes. "I'm a mourner in a town that's full of them. I'm a certified 4-F and wear a brace. I hardly rate a second look."

"But you will not show ID."

"Are you saying you can't get me past the guard?"

Alvi drew a long breath. "Of course I can get you in." He clucked to the team and slapped the reins against their backs. The animals pulled against the traces and the wagon jerked forward.

At the gate, two privates saluted smartly and one grinned. "Morning, Alvi. You bringing us a load of hooch?"

"Don't you wish, Private Wilson!" He showed the claim slip. "I'm afraid my errand is a little less cheerful today."

Wilson glanced at the ticket. "Sorry to see that. Was he kin to you?"

"After a fashion. Do you need to inspect our wagon?"

"For you?" He offered a sly smile. "Not unless there's a chance you got something good back there. We just got paid, you know. Your deals are better than what we can get in town."

"No, I'm afraid I don't have anything today, but I'm leaving this morning to make some trades. I'll be back in a few months, and we'll do business then."

"Looking forward to it."

"So am I, friend." Alvi started the team again and was through the gate before the soldier had a chance to ask for Donovan's ID.

"That was easy," Donovan said.

"Easier than I expected," Alvi admitted. "That's the problem with taking them young like that. They rarely have the cunning of a more experienced man and don't recognize a trick when they see it. It's no wonder we're losing the wars."

Donovan thought back to his own escape more than a year ago. "I'd still be with my unit if it wasn't for naïve young recruits."

"Indeed. Which road are you taking to Valle Redondo?"

"The way we came. Trés Ladrones. Catalunia."

"A lonely road," Alvi said. "There's very little out there. Not much help if something goes wrong."

"Safe from Feds though," Donovan reminded him. "And too far from anything worth stealing to be attractive to raiders."

"There is some truth to that. Do you travel armed?"

"I got my shotgun back this morning."

"They are usually good about returning hunting weapons. People have to eat. Hungry people only cause trouble." They were passing a few storage buildings, with Building 32 straight ahead. "Did you find some nice gifts for your Amalia when you went shopping yesterday?"

"A few things.”

"And what are your plans for after you get home?"

"Help finish the harvest, I guess. Try to do a little trading in town before the holidays."

"Ah, yes, Christmas presents. It's fun to buy pretty things for children and ladies, isn't it?"

"It’s a lot more fun than plowing and stringing chile peppers."

"That it is," Alvi agreed. "A word of caution, friend. We have talked about my unadvertised business, and you know I sometimes hear important things." He frowned in concern. "I continue to hear of plans to clean up Macrina. The town is growing prosperous and the Feds want their cut. They also suspect there are young men of draft age there. It's been a long time since they've recruited in that area."

"That's what I heard."

"If I were you," Alvi said, his voice low and sincere. "I would make my trades in Higdon for a little while."

"Higdon?" Donovan looked at him skeptically. "I hear they're disorganized and unsafe."

"Unsafe for a lady. Unsafe for an old man like Peterson. But not unsafe for a young and clever man like yourself. Should you fail to take my advice and find yourself in Macrina on the day of a raid, I can't guarantee that your papers will be much use. They might help, they might not. A large unit with full cross-checking capability would see through it in a minute."

"I see your point. I don't suppose you know when Higdon's market days are?"

"It’s my job to know everyone's market days. Higdon is usually the second week of every month. But each year they have a special market period starting the first of December. It is usually quite good. There is a road that goes from Higdon directly to Mexico, which makes their Christmas market very unique."

"I'll keep that in mind.”

"I hope so, friend. It would be a terrible tragedy for the ladies to lose you simply because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, don't you agree?"

Before Donovan could answer, they found themselves pulling into a long drive that extended across a series of bays across the front of Building 32. Alvi handed his claim ticket to a corporal and was directed to a bay at the end of the row. As they pulled up, some young recruits brought out a crude wooden coffin while two others began recklessly moving the goods in the wagon aside. Donovan jumped down to direct them and for a few minutes everything was confusion. Finally they got the coffin in, strapped it down and began re-packing everything else around it.

"Be sure they tie the tarp down well," Alvi advised. "They say the front is still a few days away, but things could be moving faster than they predict and it's hard to see a change with the mountains in the way." He frowned at the sky and called the corporal over. "Any chance we can get a plastic tarp?"

"No, sir. Regulations."

Alvi fumbled in a pocket and slipped a coin into the young man's hand. "We will be traveling a long way. It would be a shame if one of our war heroes were exposed to the elements on his final journey home, don't you think?"

The corporal stole a glance at the coin and slipped it into a pocket. "Yes, sir, it would." He walked away and returned a few minutes later with a brown plastic sheet. He handed it to the recruits and had them tie it on top of the canvas tarp.

When the men were finished, they stepped back and saluted. Donovan climbed onto the box, Alvi clucked at the jennies and they were on their way.

They passed through the base in silence and were almost at the gate when Alvi said, "You will make certain Miss Carina gets home safely.”

Donovan looked at him, startled. "Of course. What kind of question is that?"

"It isn't a question. I only wish I didn't have this other commitment."

"I can look out for her."

"I don't worry for her physical safety," Alvi said. "I worry for her feelings. She is fragile right now and could do something rash."

"I don't see her setting things on fire again."

"That isn't quite what I meant." Alvi flashed Donovan a look that was completely lost on him. "I don't want her putting her hopes in the wrong places."

"Oh, she won't do that."

"Really?" They pulled through the gate with a smile and wave to the guard. Up ahead, parked beside the curb, was the red gypsy cart. Carina was standing by the donkeys, rubbing Patrón's nose. Alvi pulled the team to a stop, jumped down and walked over to her. "That didn't take so long, did it?"

Carina shook her head. "I suppose not."

He took her hands in his and started to say something else, then pulled her close instead. In her ear he whispered, "Do nothing foolish, dear. Have a safe trip home. I will visit you in the spring."

Next>>
<<Previous