By Atonia and Jo

Jo writing Maximus, Caroline, Bud, Marie, Sid, Hope, Cort, Lachlan, Ben

Atonia writing Terry, Dee, Alex, Linda, Jack, Tarwyn, John, Bethany, Dino, Max

PART 9:

Ben recognized something in the way Skinner was smiling and almost grinned.  If the man had been in Yuma, he’d have been an outlaw.  He liked that about him, but it also meant he wouldn’t be quite the easy pickings he’d hoped. Still… “You like a drink, Max?” he asked, maintaining his friendly mode. “Ol’ John’s got drinks just up in the yard.”

“I’ve never been known to turn down a drink and I could use one now.”

John emptied out Terry’s liquor cabinet and had a couple bottles of wine set out on a table.

Max looked over the table. “Spoilt for choice.” He picked up a bottle of whiskey and raised a brow at Ben.

“I was hopin’ there’d be somethin’ like what you got in your hand, Max. I’d be mighty obliged you pour me a glass an’ we can toast to new arrivals, you an’ me, who got nothin’ better to do than lift a glass.” 

Max did the honors and handed Ben a glass. “Cheers.” He took a sip and eyed Ben again. “From what I heard from Terry, brothers as he calls them, are falling out of the woodwork fairly regularly. I can’t imagine what the grand plan is. I’m a banker and you, from what I was told, are a robber.” He smiled broadly. “Black sheep among the fold perhaps?”

Ben looked down with a smile at his black jeans. “You see me wearin’ white, maybe then it’s time to be worryin’, but I’ll take the role of a black sheep.  I ain’t gen’rully welcome here an’ I know it, but whatever harm these here fellers think I done caused ‘em was all in the movie. Did Terry tell you how it was Sid done put ‘em into my movie only I didn’t know who they was. They seemed just like who they was supposed to be an’ I ain’t never had nothin’ against none of ‘em. Some few seem to understand that.” He glanced from Terry to Bud to John, “An’ then there’s others don’t.  I hear tell what we done in our movies was what we was wrote doin’ an’ yet I get the blame for bein’ wrote bad.  I ain’t just rightly sure how that’s all my fault.”

He fixed his gaze back on Max. “Now I done seen your movie the other day, Max, an’ it looks to me like you done been some…creative…in your bankin’.  Now I know you was wrote that way an’ I don’t hold that against you.  You plannin’ on holdin’ how I was wrote against me?”

It was all Max could do not to say how he was wrote. He stretched his neck a little and took another drink. “I know there is a lot of history here among the, um, brothers. Evidently a lot of unpleasant things have happened since they were all retrieved. I have not seen your movie, Ben, and so I cannot comment on how you were, uh, wrote. I’ve seen mine and read the book written about me and all I can say is that I am a product of that media. I don’t believe that any of us are responsible for how we were created. However, now that we know all about that, it’s up to us what we do with it.” He took another sip. “You’re right about the creative trading, but it wasn’t illegal…close but not exactly.”

Terry glanced over at Max and Ben and wondered what they had to talk about.

Max caught the look and lifted his glass to Terry and turned back to Ben. “Daddy has promised to give me a little money. When he does I intend to make it grow as fast as I can.” He caught Ben’s eye over the rim of his glass. “Creatively.”

Ben tried not to smile at Max’s reference to Terry as Daddy but the feelings behind it gave him a lot of insight into Max’s thinking.  Cort had given him money but had not made him feel so like a child in the receiving of it and he was glad of that.  Terry didn’t like Ben and had made that clear.  He expected that might have more to do with the fact that Sid had made Terry be Butterfield and Butterfield wasn’t exactly a manly man.  Terry should rightly be angry with Sid over that, Ben figured, not him. 

“I got me a little wad of bills, Max, an’ I been wonderin’ just what to do with it. You got any particular creative ideas you come up with, I’d be mighty obliged if you might consider lettin’ me in on ‘em.  I ain’t been here long in this time, but I been here long enough to know that a man’s gotta have hisself cash to make his way an’ the more the better.”

“As soon as I get it figured out, Ben, I’ll let you know.” The realization that he had nothing had hit him pretty hard. No flat in London, no big bank account, no Aston-Martin fund, no chateau in Provence to sell. He was absolutely broke and without. He’d been on the top of the heap and it had been a long fall into that ravine in Colombia.

He owed Terry his life, a debt he could never repay.

“I’ll be countin’ on that, Max.  I wish you well in this here new life of ours. Capable man like you’s gonna do all right for hisself.  I can see that just talkin’ to you. I can also see you’re a man needs to make his own way, not just livin’ off what some other man give him. I admire that, Max.”

“Thanks, Ben. I’ve never been one to let opportunity pass me by. I’ve been handed a lemon and it’s up to me to make lemonade from it.” He looked in his empty glass. “Shall we have the other half?”

John moved up beside Bud. “Looks like Max’s got a buddy. Maybe we need to rescue him.”

“Who? Max from Ben or Ben from Max?”

John looked at Bud. “You think? Nah, Max is not like Ben. But I can see Ben trying to cozy up to a banker.”

Alex chuckled, “Maybe they’re planning a bank robbery.”

“Don’t say things like that, Alex,” John frowned.

Terry was over adjusting the flame on the grill. “It’s this knob here, Jack. That’s about where I keep it for hamburgers.”

“Deidre assured me this is where men cook.” Jack smiled a little.

Terry laughed.

Maximus walked up, smiling at the two men. “I am very pleased you have returned in one piece, Terry.  Your career seems to involve some dangerous activity, not that being in this place with Sid about does not.” He wiped a hand across his lower face. “I am, in truth, wondering at his quietude of late. This is not like him and it has me concerned that he may be thinking of some new plan that will inevitably cost us all most dearly.”

Terry brushed his hands on his jeans. “You know, Maximus, these brief moments of normality are worrisome. Shame, isn’t it, that we have to feel that way.”

“And yet, we cannot live in constant fear of the unknown.  If a man lives on fear alone he cannot live at all. It’s been nearly a month now without incident.” Jack held a palm over the fire and began shoveling hamburger patties with a large spatula onto the grill.

“Ah, maybe he just got tired of his little games. I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten us.” Terry took a drink from his beer bottle. “Whatever he’s up to won’t hold his attention for long. He needs constant amusement.”

Hope and Lachlan came up near the grill. “Hello, Uncle Terry,” Hope said. “I guess you heard Daddy’s left town.”

“Yes, I did hear, Hope. I hate he’s gone but I think I can understand it. Cort hasn’t really been with us since…Rachel died. I just wish he’d keep in touch. Are you able to…do whatever it is you do and keep up with him?”

“A little. It’s like he doesn’t want to be found, though.”

“I think he’s doing what he needs to do, Hope,” Lachlan added.  “We’ve got to let him do it.”

It had been a good homecoming for Terry. Everybody was gone except John, who was out on the patio with Beth, along with Jack and Tarwyn.

Max followed him into his office. “Am I officially initiated into the club now?”

“I believe you are, Max.” Terry rummaged in his desk drawer and brought out a cell phone and checked it. “This has all our numbers in it. Here’s the charger that goes with it. It’s yours.”

Max took the phone and checked it. It needed charging. Terry was writing out a check and so he sat down. “This feels very strange, Terry.”

“I know it must, Max, but there’s no way around it. This will give you a start. I also have a laptop here you can have. Our phones and internet connections are all set up through a service Sid invented. Unlimited everything and no bills will arrive. Tomorrow, I’ll get your official papers on the way. Another little perk from Sid. You’ll have a driver’s license, insurance and a passport.”

“You’re going to make me an American citizen? Terry, I’m British and I want to remain British.”

“I can do that.” Terry looked up and then tore the check out of the checkbook.

“It’s not legal, is it?”

“It will hold up anywhere you need for it to hold up. I’m just giving you the tools. What you build with them is up to you.”

“I see. You are creating a debt on top of a debt I can never repay.”

“Don’t talk about debts. You owe me nothing…thanks for saving my arse might be accepted.”

Max smiled, “Thanks, Terry, for all you’ve done.”

“John’s going to run you over to the apartment he’s got. It’s yours until you decide you want to move.”

Terry rose and offered his hand. “Welcome home, Max.”

Max stood up and took his hand and hugged him briefly. “You are truly my brother.”

“Yeah, well as Bud would say, ‘Don’t get sappy on me’; go on with ya.”

Maximus had dropped Ben off by the safe house. Ben waited until Maximus had driven away, but he didn’t go in. He was feeling restless in many ways so he walked down to the area of town where a lot of the bars were.  This time he brought a blonde home but as soon as he’d had sex with her once, he was tired of her, tired of things he couldn’t put a name to.  He told her to go and walked her back to the bar. After that he roamed the streets alone for a long time.  There were so many lights he couldn’t see the stars.  He wanted…what?  Not to be trapped here, that was part of what he wanted.  In his own world he’d felt in command of his fate.  Here he was in command of nothing and it was galling him. 

John slowed down as he came to his neighborhood. “That’s restaurant row. You can find a little bit of everything there. Good Mexican restaurants if you like that. A few bars and a little overpriced grocery but they have good meats. Dry cleaners there…I got a washer and dryer but I mostly used it for socks and underwear and towels. I sent everything else to the dry cleaners. That’s the apartment complex over there.” John slowed at the stop light.

“Is there a bank near here?” Max asked.

“Next block up on the right. Second building here.” John parked the car and offered to help Max carry his things in.

“Not much to carry, John.”

John unlocked the door. “Looks like the girls have been over here. I know I never bought flowers,” he chuckled.

The apartment had that air conditioned smell of artificial freshness. Max looked around as John took him on a little tour. Two bedrooms, dining area, living room and full kitchen. A sliding glass door opened onto a narrow balcony. A small metal table and two chairs out there. It overlooked the parking lot but a row of tall trees separated it from the street.

“When you want to watch ’em, there’s the stack of DVD’s of all Russell Crowe’s movies. You’ll find us all in there. Anything else, Max?”

“I don’t think so, John. I appreciate the apartment.”

“No problem. I’m gonna run then. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

Max closed the door and locked it. He plugged in the cell phone to charge it up and stripped off his jacket and tie. A few minutes later he was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. It still felt like a nightmare. The door bell rang and then he heard the door being opened and he stood up.

“It’s just me, Max. I forgot to leave you the keys.” John came back in and tossed them on the dining room table. “You okay, Max?”

“No…I’m not, but I suppose it will pass.”

“I know what you’re going through. It’s the new reality and it comes down hard. We’ve all been there.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Time will. You just gotta hang in there. Get some rest tonight. You’ve been traveling for awhile. Tomorrow you can start figuring it out.”

“Yeah, thanks for bringing the keys back.”

 

“I guess I had Bethany on my mind and I forgot. G’night, Max.”

“Good night.” Max locked up again and went into the kitchen and opened cabinets and the refrigerator. “Tea…I need a cuppa.”

Ben kept wandering the streets for a long while. He became fascinated by some sort of something with the letters ATM on them. Somebody would stop in front of one of them, slide in some little flat card-like thing, punch a button or two and out would come cash.  He found it truly amazing but had no idea how it worked.  Be kinda nice, though, to have one of those little magic cards he decided.  Seemed kinda dangerous to do such a transaction so openly, however. As he went down one darkened street he came upon an obviously drunk man who was standing in front of one of the things, stuffing a wad of bills into his wallet. Watching carefully, Ben licked his lips. Damn easy if he took it into his head to relieve the man of it. Damn easy.  Not yet. He didn’t want to end up in some modern jail.  He also had no idea how they were like in this day and age.  Then he thought about Yuma Prison and wondered if it was still there. Suddenly it hit him it might not even be a real prison.  Was there a Bisbee, a Contention?  He staggered slightly and pressed a palm hard against a brick wall.  If he wasn’t real, then neither were Charlie, none of his gang,

not even Dan Evans.  Had he never really been left at the train station when he was eight? Had he ever…been…eight?  He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, realizing in a much fuller way that it was possible he had simply come into existence as a full-grown man sitting on his horse doing a sketch. 

Shaking his head, he said, “No!” quite firmly. There had to be more to him than that.  Suddenly he wanted to talk to one of the others but every single one of them had a woman with him, all of them but Cort and Cort had gone off on his own. He needed a drink, maybe lots of drinks.

Max finally threw the covers back and sat up. His body clock was all out of sync. He checked the clock on the radio. It was 11:00 PM. He was physically tired and mentally spent but he couldn’t sleep. The afternoon kept coming back to him. All those…characters. Terry had explained it all to him and he’d seen it with his own eyes but still…

What was he doing here in Texas? Even if his life in London was fictitious, London was still the same. Piccadilly was still there, Parliament, Buck House was real. Of course, he’d be homeless. He padded into the living room and from the light coming in from the parking lot he looked at the stack of DVDs.

An hour later he was watching Proof of Life and working on a bottle of whiskey he found in the kitchen. Terry hadn’t told him he was living in London or where he’d been retrieved from his movie. He thought about Terry and all he’d done for him. But now he was on his own. Now he would have to discover if he really was Max Skinner.

 He fell asleep on the sofa ¾ the way through Mystery, Alaska.

Ben drank for quite some time. It took a lot to get him drunk so he just kept on drinking because his mind wouldn’t stop thinking.  Around 1 AM as the bar was getting ready to close, he finally put his head down on his arms and quietly passed out.

He was unaware of the bartender shaking his shoulder.  “Hey, mister. You got to go. We’re closing up.”

With no response from the man, the bartender fished in a pocket for some ID. The man had none, only a cell phone.  Flipping it open, the bartender pressed 1 on speed dial.  Cort had programmed that to be Terry’s number.

Terry didn’t recognize the number that came up on his phone. But it was late and since there were so many of them around now he answered it. “This is Thorne.”

“This is Tim down at the Blue Note Bar on 10^th. Look, mister, I got a man passed out here at one of my tables and no ID on him. Nothing. He had this phone, though, and I’m trying to contact somebody before I toss him out in the back alley.”

A quick intake of breath…who? “Can you give me a description?”

“Man’s mostly in black, short beard, maybe early 40’s. Hard to tell. You gonna come and get him or should I throw him out?”

“I’m on my way.” Terry glanced over at Dee. They’d just settled down after making up for the time he’d been away.

“On your way where, Terry?”

“Blue Note Bar…and I have no idea but it sounds like Wade’s passed out. Keep the bed warm for me, luv.”

Terry threw on his jeans and a sweatshirt touting Texas and drove to the bar. They were trying to close up but there was Wade with his head on the bar. Terry approached him cautiously.

“Ben…Ben, it’s Terry. Let’s get you home.”

Ben turned his head just slightly and slurred, “Ain’t got no home. Go ‘way.”

Terry heard what he said and looked away for a moment. He hadn’t given much thought to Ben. What with Jack and the mission in South America…but here he was. Cort was gone and Ben was lost.

“Ben, come with me, brother. You can’t stay here. They’re trying to lock up. I’ve got my car right out front with the motor running. Let’s find somewhere else to go.” He moved a little closer to him and placed a hand in the middle of his back. “This place is done for the night. Let’s ride.”

“Ride? You got my horse?”  He stood, swaying dangerously, only keeping to his feet due to Terry’s hand.  Sucking in a great gulp of air he murmured, “I miss my horse. Damn good horse.  You know ‘bout good horses…who…who are you?”

“I’m a friend of yours. I’ve come to help you out, Ben.” Terry shifted his hold on Ben and started slowly walking him toward the door. The bartender came around and held the door open. Terry nodded at him. “Thanks for calling me.”

Ben leaned against Terry’s car. “I know you. You’re one of me. I ain’t so sure I’m one of me no more, though.  You ever been eight? I ain’t never been eight. Thought I’d been but I ain’t been ain’t…eight. You prob’ly never been eight neither. You ever get left in a train station? I ain’t never got left in no train station.” He began to laugh then threw up in the gutter. “Don’t feel so good.” He looked up at Terry, blinking slowly. “You one of them brothers of mine don’t have no use for me.” He laughed again. “I ain’t got no use for me neither.” He started to sag. “Why you come for me? You don’t even like me none.” His knees were buckling.

Terry caught him before he went down and leaned him against the car before he opened the door. “Ben, you’re a flesh and blood man, just like I am. You are who you think you are. All your memories are real for you. It’s who you are. I know we all started out on a piece of paper somewhere but we’ve grown beyond that now. I got memories too. I think I fathered a son. All that’s lost to me now. I don’t hate you, Ben. I came for you because I care about you. Think you can sit in the car now?”

With the door opened for him and Terry holding his arm, Ben managed to get in the front passenger seat. He leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. “Max…said I was…black…sheep. Ain’t nobody…carin’ ‘bout me. Alone. Like… always. Ain’t nobody…carin’.” Then he passed out again and slumped to the side.

Terry buckled him in and went around and got behind the wheel. He sat there for a moment and rolled the window down to let the whiskey fumes escape. He didn’t know what the bloody hell to do with Ben. He noticed a police car slowly driving by and realized he was parked in a no-parking zone. He threw his hand up and pulled out onto the street.

He drove around for a bit thinking about Ben. His last slurred words kept  running in  a loop in his mind. Ben was alone and what he said was basically true. Who did care about him? He realized he did. He cared about him just like he cared about the rest of them. All families had black sheep, didn’t they? It was a shame that Ben’s entry into their world happened like it did. It colored everybody’s perception of him. He fully understood Bud and John’s attitude. It was hard to warm up to someone who’d plugged you or caused you to be shot.

He finally made a decision. He called Dee. “Luv, I’m apples. I’ve got a passed out drunken Ben in the car and I’m taking him to the safe house. I don’t know when I’ll be home. Go back to sleep now. I love you.”

The safe house was a sad-looking place and as Terry parked in the drive he knew it wasn’t a place for Ben to live. What was it he said about horses? He shook his head a little and looked over at him. Ben was out of it. He let out a breath and opened the door. Now to get him inside.

Ben had only the vaguest awareness somebody was trying to get him to move, to walk somewhere.  He leaned heavily on whoever it was and stumbled his way into wherever it was he was being taken.  He didn’t really care. His fogged brain was a welcome thing, a thing to be clutched at with both hands. It was why he’d sat there alone drinking so long. 

Terry half carried him to the first bedroom he came to and deposited him on the bed. He covered him with a blanket and stood by the bed for a moment. With a sigh he left him to sleep it off. He understood how it was. Cort had helped him through the first part of it but it was a reoccurring thing with them. He’d just been through it with Max and he knew Max wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He’d started in Miami and it seemed the day would never end. With a blanket for himself he lay down on the sofa but sleep eluded him. He was awake now. With an arm across his brow he wondered what could be done about Ben. And then there was the question of how much Ben would allow anyone to help him. He needed things, transportation, a place of his own to live…a place where he could have his horses. He had a thought. The horse in Yuma was named Ribbon. Obviously it had been a well trained horse used for filming. What if…what if he could locate that horse? He sat up on the sofa and looked around for the DVDs. Finding  3:10 To Yuma, he fast forwarded it to the end credits. He waited with a pen and a scrap of paper. It was worth a try.

Bud had made love again with Marie after the cookout then had slept a while but now he was awake, watching the moon out a bedroom window.  There was so much to think about, not just getting a business going with John and all that would entail, but the condition of the men who were his brothers.  He knew Cort the best of all those who had been retrieved after the original three…or what he, Terry, and John had always presumed to be the original three. The existence of Alex and Lachlan had put the lie to that quite effectively.  And it was Cort he was fondest of, not just because he’d known him the longest of the subsequent retrievals or retrieval discoveries, but because he’d personally witnessed so much of what the man had gone through in his time out of his movie.  He lay there wondering where Cort was, what he was doing, how his mental state was.

Sighing, he knew there was nothing he could do right now to help Cort.  There were three new brothers right here, however. Jack, so it seemed, was doing remarkably well. He was a steady man and though he was having some difficulty in finding what he wanted to do as far as earning his way, in most matters of the modern world Jack was dealing much better than anyone had expected for a man 200 years out of his time.  That he had Tarwyn probably helped a lot with that. The two newest, though, were all alone.  Max was not out of his time, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the cultural shock of that. He thought about Max and how he’d been in his movie and even though it was inevitable that Max would go through degrees of loss, he seemed a brilliantly capable man and Bud figured sooner probably rather than later he’d find his way. 

When Ben had come out, Bud had to admit if he were being truthful with himself, that he’d ranked the man so far down he wasn’t much above Sid.  Sid was the way he was because he’d been programmed to be that way, had taken that programming and magnified it, utterly without conscience, totally amoral. Was Ben amoral? He knew Ben had grown up thinking only about himself, but was that because nobody else thought about him? Ben was more complicated than Sid. Bud knew that if he were able to take himself out of the movie in the role of Byron and just look at the movie with detachment, there was a definite pattern of Ben trying to keep Dan Evans alive, that keeping him alive mattered to him. He had, yes, gotten tired of it there in that building after he’d been shot in the arm, but, even so, had come to the point where he chose to go on to the train with Dan, went on when he did not have to go on.  One scene Bud had liked was that when William had the drop on Ben there after Ben had killed his gang, Ben did nothing but stand there and…wait. There was something about his waiting like that that had always stuck in Bud’s mind.  

Ben was not an easy man to like. Bud knew he’d have to really work at it but he guessed what he was trying to do as he and the moon shared the night hours, was to come to a decision on if he wanted to work at it or not. Instinctively, his guard went up when he was in Ben’s presence, both because Ben had thrown him off a cliff and because as a lawman, he reacted that way to a known criminal. Even if he decided to play nice with Ben, he was aware that a certain level of his guard needed to remain in place since Ben was a master of manipulation.  At the cookout, he’d seen him with Max, smiling, making conversation.  Most likely he hadn’t been doing that because he felt like a brother toward him but because Max was part of the financial world and it was that Ben was interested in.

“You’re judging him, White,” he murmured to himself. He hadn’t done that with any of the other brothers, not counting Sid, of course.  Always, right from the start, he’d tried to help them, make them feel welcome, but Ben wasn’t like any of the others. He was…Ben Wade.  Bud folded his arms over his face, knowing he was going round in circles in his thoughts. What he wanted was to have a good talk with Terry about Ben.  Terry was very leery of Ben but he trusted Terry’s level head and the man always seemed to do the right thing in the end. Yes, he’d talk with Terry. Right now he was tired of thinking about it.

Max woke with a start on the sofa. He was totally disoriented and quickly looked around as he sat up. The sun was just sending tentative beams through the wide windows and the sliding glass door. He stumbled to the bathroom and cleaned his teeth ridding his mouth of the night’s old whiskey. “Who are you?” he asked the man in the mirror. He blinked a few times and thought he was going to have to do something about a pair of glasses, something to take the blurred edges off the edges of the world he found himself in. Or maybe not; maybe it was better this way.

While the coffee maker worked he showered and found John’s old bathrobe on the back of the bathroom door. With a coffee mug in hand he stood on the narrow balcony and looked out. Not at the River Thames, not at the skyline of London but at a paved parking area and a line of trees. There was no hurry, no bank he had to go to…no Gemma…no Sir Nigel. He frowned for a moment at that thought and then smiled. “No Sir Nigel…really.”

Terry roused up after about three and a half hour’s sleep. He sat up on the sofa and rubbed his face. On the coffee table was the scrap of paper. Today he would do something about that but right now he needed coffee. He checked the bedroom and Ben was curled up under the blanket, softly snoring. For a moment he thought about waking him but didn’t. He thought about getting in his vehicle and going home…but he didn’t. He put the coffee pot to work instead.

When Bud woke in the morning, it was right there in his mind again, his conversation with himself last night.  The moon had been beautiful but useless when it came to advice. He rolled out of bed, showered, shaved. Marie was already gone to the hospital. He hadn’t even heard her get up for her early shift. Standing at the sink drinking coffee, he wondered if Terry was up.  Man was back in town and tended to be much more useful than the moon. Except for maybe tides, he chuckled to himself. Moon was much better than Terry when it came to tides. He eyed his phone on the counter, thought what the heck, and called Terry.

“I hope you were up,” he said, somewhat apologetic in his tone.

“Bud, what’s on your mind?” Terry poured a cup of coffee and walked to the back door.

“Ben Wade. I’ve got the damn outlaw on my mind and can’t get him off. Kinda hoped maybe you and I could have a talk about him, what you think of him, what to do with him now he’s out.”

“Bud, I had to go and pick him up last night. I’m at the safe house now an he’s still asleep. Sleeping off a hell of a drunk. He’s in bad shape emotionally. He’s alone and thinks no one cares about him. He’s wrong on that account, you know.”

“If you’re going to be there awhile, Terry, I’d like to come over.”

“Come on. I’ll be here.”

Bud drove over to the safe house, sitting in his car a minute looking at it. He had a lot of bad memories connected with this place. Well, memories weren’t going to help with the task at hand. Opening the front door, he found Terry in the living room. “He still asleep?”

“Sleeping like a baby.”

“So tell me where and how you found him last night.”

“I got a call around 1 PM from the Blue Note. When I got there Ben was passed out on the bar. Head down, you know. I got him up and to the car. He was going on about his horse, the black. He was also talking about…now this is drunk talk you understand, he said no one cared about him. Said he was alone like always and he said something about never being eight. I assumed it was his abandonment by his mother he was talking about. He’s in a bad way.”

Bud popped his head in the door to take a look at Ben. He’d never seen him asleep and he looked just as vulnerable as any other man. “Damn!” Bud hissed under his breath. “Are you going to make me care about you?” 

Coming back out to the living room, he took another cup of coffee Terry proffered. “So he was talking about not being eight, huh? Must’ve really hit him that he was created full grown.  That’s still something I don’t understand, you know. Cort took Rachel and Hope to Thorneton. How was Thorneton…there? Was there a house in New South Wales that Russell Crowe decided was perfect for your backstory? I don’t know how this works, Terry, and it really bugs me sometimes.  Was there an actual radiator I was tied to as a kid? With Max we know there’s an actual chateau because they filmed at a real one in a real town. He just doesn’t own it, has no real connection to it.”

He set his mug on a side table, rubbing at his eyes.  “And Dino. You’re the only one we know of who has somebody else out from his movie.  Seeing how lost these new guys are makes me realize how out of my element I am, too. Stirs it all up for me. I miss the way things were in the 1950’s, Terry, I really do.”

Terry thought about Thorneton. “As for Thorneton, Crowe is living in Australia. He must have seen the place or know of it somehow. It’s real so I don’t question it. We’re all in the same boat here, Bud. Nothing but what we see here was ever real. The rest was just…props like Max’s fake credit card he tried to buy a plane ticket to London with. There’s Jack with memories of Sophie, me with memories of Henry. John often mentions his boys and his wife. He only gets to see them in a DVD.  He sees himself playing with them. I tell you one thing that’s real. That horse that Ben rode in Yuma. Dee told me one time its name and if I can find that damn horse I’m going to buy it for Ben. Give the bastard something…God knows he needs something.”

“He won’t be keeping it here at the safe house. You got any idea where Ben could keep a horse? If he was at Cort’s he could, but he told Cort he wanted to come into town. I don’t think he knows what he wants, Terry, but if he could have that horse he knows, I think that’d be the best thing for him. It’s brilliant, in fact.”

Terry grinned a little, “Let’s don’t put the cart before the horse. I don’t know if I can get it or not. I’m going to give it a go and if I do then we can figure out where it needs to be kept. Ben might have something to say about that.”

Groaning sounds were coming from the bedroom and they got up to go check. Ben had the pillow pressed over his face. “Shoot me now,” he moaned. He never got that drunk but this morning he had the hangover to prove he had.

“Morning, Ben. It’s Bud.”

“Any cliffs hereabouts? I may throw myself off.”

Bud couldn’t help but chuckle. “Aw, Ben, don’t go and do that. I know from experience it’s not all that much fun.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for fun, White. An’ why you here? Why am I here?” He moaned again and folded his arms over the pillow.

Terry stuck his head around Bud. “I just put on a fresh pot of coffee, Ben. Hope you’re up to it.”

“I ain’t up to nothin’.”

“Come on, Ben. It might make you feel better.” Bud couldn’t help but be at least a little amused at the state Ben was in.

“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ to make me feel better but the fur of the horse…dog…what bit me.”

“No dog fur in the safe house,” Bud grinned.

“This that damn safeless safe house?”

“Yeah, it’s that.”

“How’d I get here?”

“I brought you home,” Terry answered him. “Put you to bed and tucked ya in.” He couldn’t help himself; he had to move out of the doorway and stifle it. He knew how Ben felt this morning. It’d been a long time since he’d been as drunk as Ben was last night. He got his face under control and stepped back in the doorway.

“Why you bring me here? You don’t care nothin’ ‘bout me. I seen that all over your face when we done got off that there railroad car. You neither, White. Why don’t you just go on your way an’ leave me be?”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Ben. We do care about you otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Yuma was a bad experience for us. Especially for Bud who’ll wear his scars as a reminder for the rest of his life. That was Sid’s little game of the week. I know I’ve had some time to think about it. You’re a brother to me just like Bud. We might not see eye to eye on everything but that’s how people are. I could have dumped you off last night and gone home but I didn’t. So you think about that a little. You’re not alone here.”

Ben moved the pillow enough to peek out at them with one eye. His head was exploding and it was hard to think clearly about anything, much less something as serious as what Terry and Bud were saying.  He felt like he needed to think about it, though, but he hurt so badly he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.  “You fellers got anythin’ in this here 2011 world that helps a head like mine?”

“Bud probably knows what’s in the medicine chest. He stayed here for awhile. I know you probably feel like shit this morning. You ought to,” Terry grinned. “You can’t give in to it, though. The sooner you’re up, the faster it will pass.”

Bud was already plopping some Alka Seltzer Morning After in a glass of water and pouring out a big mug of Gatorade. He came back into the bedroom, explaining, “Looked it up on the internet once. Said to avoid caffeine and to try this stuff. Let’s see if it works.”

He set the things down on a beside table. “Ben, listen to me, buddy. You’re going to have to sit up and drink what I’ve got for you here.”

Ben pushed the pillow completely off, looking blearily up at Bud. “You expectin’ me to lift my head…up?”

“I am, Ben. And you need to do it. You asked if there were any modern things that might help and this is what I’ve got.”

“What is that stuff?” He looked at the bubbles shooting up in the glass of water.

“It’s stuff for what you got, Ben,” Bud smiled. “Now push yourself up. You need help?”

“No, I don’t need no help.” With a loud groan, Ben got himself up, leaning against the headboard.

“This first.” Bud handed him the Alka Seltzer.

Ben took a sip and made a face. “Tastes like shit an' tickles my nose.”

“Drink. You need it.”

Eyes squinched tightly shut, Ben drank it, his hand shaking as he held the glass. Bud took it from him, let him wait a couple of minutes, then handed him the mug of Gatorade.

Ben stared down into the mug. “It’s green. What is it, cactus juice?”

“It’s called Gatorade and your body wants it.”

“My body wants to crawl in some hole, White. That’s what it wants.”

“Well, drink this and give it a little while. Maybe the hole will seem less attractive.”

“You worse than some damn wife, Bud White.” But he drank it.  Bud noticed his first name had been added to his last and cast a glance at Terry.

Terry smiled. Ben was vulnerable right now but just maybe a little personal attention would go a long way with him. He walked back into the living room and picked up his phone.

“Morning, Nolia. Did you get my text?”

Dee yawned. “I saw it a few minutes ago. You’re still at the safe house?”

“Yeah, the bear is waking up now. Bud’s here. I know it’s still early in California but as soon as you can, make contact and let me know.”

“I will, honey. When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know yet. I love you.”

“I love you, too, and you know for a moment there last night I thought you were back.  Maybe I was dreaming.”

“I know, luv, but it couldn’t be helped. I’ll call you later.”

Terry went for another cup of coffee.

Ben sat on the side of the bed, holding his head in his hands, waiting. “Maybe a shower would help,” Bud suggested.

Ben lifted his head, looking up at Bud, then without a word staggered off to the bathroom. When Bud heard the water running, he called John, explaining what was going on.

“I know you’ve had some bad feelings toward him just like Terry and I have, but it just really hit us last night how alone the guy is. He thinks we don’t like him and he’s been sorta right about that, but he is one of us, John. There’s no getting around that and I think if you could have heard him when he was drunk like Terry did, talking about how lost he was because he’d never been eight, never really been left in that train station, you might feel different towards him some. I was thinking maybe you could come over to the safe house, bring a little breakfast for the four of us. Maybe we could talk, get some of this straightened around. What do you think?”

John was silent for a moment. “I know he’s one of us. You’re probably right, Bud, we need to bring him into the family. All right, I gotta get dressed and I’ll stop somewhere and pick up some breakfast.” John headed for the shower, thinking about Ben. Truth was he didn’t like him. He was conniving and basically evil but that was Ben in Yuma. Even in Yuma, though, he carried a lot of pain around with him. If that’s what it took to make him human then he was willing to give it a chance.

“I’m glad you came, John,” Bud greeted him at the door.  “Ben’s had a shower now and my remedies seem to be kicking in so he’s a bit less like a wounded bear.” He chuckled, then added, “Man never does anything halfway. He decided to drink himself into oblivion last night and he did a fine job of it.”

Bud took some of the packages from John and nodded through to the kitchen where Ben could be seen sitting at the table, his chin resting on his hands. “He did it because he was hurting a lot. You know about that. I know about that.  All I’m saying is let’s give him the same chance we’ve given everybody else.”

“I’m with you, Bud.” John shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked over to the table and had a look at Ben. He couldn’t help the grin on his face.

“Feelin’ a little under the weather this mornin’, Ben?” He took the glare he got and pulled out a chair and sat down. “Nothin’ worse than the day after. We’ve all been there and for the same reasons you had. I just want to say that I know we got off on the wrong foot. That was Sid’s doing and not yours. Wasn’t your fault I was Potter.

“I’ll be honest with you, Ben. There are things you do even in your movie that bother me. I’m a lawman, that’s what I am. But I’m a non-violent person. There’s a lot of difference between me and Bud in our movies and even today. But we get along just fine; in fact we’re partners now in a new business. I think you and I can get along just fine, too. I’m willing to make the effort.”

Ben kept his chin resting on one of his palms as he regarded John while he spoke. “You ain’t a vet, then. You a lawman?” He needed to think about that. Bud was a lawman, too. He’d felt comfortable around Cort because he’d lived the outlaw life. “You an’ Bud here ain’t never had no problem with Cort’s history?”

“I’ve never had a problem with Cort. I know what Cort’s capable of but he’s got a backbone made of steel. He’s put that life behind him and he ain’t going back to it. Look at Terry, here. He’s a former SAS guy. You know what that is? He’s a trained killer but he don’t live that kinda life. Push him against the wall and he’ll do what he has to but he’s a peaceable fellow. I guess what I’m trying to say is, we’ve all got backgrounds but it’s how we live our lives here in this world that counts.”

Terry was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. He winced a little when John said he was a trained killer. It was more than that but he let it pass.

“Yeah, I did and yet I went through the same police training as everybody else that wears a badge. I just never carried a gun. I didn’t need to in Mystery. Unlike old Doc Potter I can shoot straight.”

Ben managed a little grin at that. “Doc Potter warn’t worth much with a gun. I was right pleased when they said he was one of that there posse.” Then his face changed. “I’ll give him that in the end, the man proved hisself.  How that work for you anyway, John? You hadda know he was gonna get hisself shot in the back. How come you didn’t die like he did?”

“I knew, I knew all along what was coming. Terry tried to make me some kind of padding with part of a blanket and a tin plate but we both knew a bullet could penetrate that. So when we rescued you from the torturers I kept the wooden shovel. Before we rode out of there I broke the handle off it and Terry shoved it up the back of my coat. It stopped the bullet that would have killed me. Maximus and I looked at it. Less than an inch more and I wouldn’t be here right now. Unfortunately the shovel only stretched up so far and I took one through the shoulder. We were all working together behind the scenes trying to keep each other alive.”

John chuckled, “What was worse than that was me having to operate on Bud. I did what I could and sterilized the instrument but it was Marie who kept him going and from getting an infection. We had a hell of a time, Ben. It was all of us working together and looking out for each other…you see where I’m going?”

“I see I wasn’t no part of that.” He sighed rather thoroughly. “I didn’t know what was goin’ on. Just did what I was wrote to do an’ I can see how that was a problem for you fellas.  I ain’t never had nobody work with me like you talkin’ about. My gang was just animals, like I done said.  Charlie, he watched after me but it was different from what you’re sayin’, John.”

He looked up at Bud. “So they was all workin’ where I couldn’t see ‘em to keep you from getting’ squashed when you went over that there cliff?”

“It was Maximus and Lachlan, Ben, along with Caroline who kept me from getting killed then. I didn’t know what they were planning so it was not a happy time for me when I knew I was close to going over.”

Ben put a hand over his eyes. “I ain’t never had me no family, nothin’ like no brothers an’ now I got me some, they’re tellin’ me how I tried to kill ‘em all. Maybe it’d best best all ‘round if I just up and left this here town. I can’t see why any of you would ever want me around.”

For the first time Bud put his hand on Ben’s shoulder.  “I’m not holding it against you, Ben, not any more.  You did what you were, um, wrote to do. But now it’s all different. For the first time ever nobody is writing what you do. It’s you, Ben, just you who decide what you’ll do next. It’s not on paper, nobody’s acting as you, you’re a truly free man. Do you understand that, Ben? You’re…free.”

“Free?” He moved his hand.

“Yes, Ben, free.  Everything for you is a fresh start just like it’s been for each one of us.  What you do with that is up to you.”

“You’re free to be your own man, Ben. We’ve all stuck together here because just like we worked together in the movie, we work together here. We watch each other’s back. We’re here for each other when you need a little emotional support, a little financial support, or a little Sid support. You never know when you might have to pull some airman out of a bathtub full of glue, rescue some sailor from the top of a tree or pull a reporter out of a garbage can. We’re a team and we’re glad you’re a part of it.” Terry wasn’t quite sure about that last bit but it sounded good. Time would tell about Ben’s team membership.

ON TO PART 10

BACK TO PART 8

BACK TO NANOCORP INDEX

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE