The Great Alone

Dad nodded. “The rich, riding the backs of better men. It’s the history of civilization itself. It’s what’s destroying America. Men who take, take, take.”

Leni had noticed her dad saying more and more things like this since meeting Mad Earl.

Dad turned into their driveway and rumbled bumpily along. When they reached the homestead, he parked hard and said, “Okay, Allbrights, today my girls learn how to shoot.”

He jumped out of the bus and dragged a bale of blackened, mildewed hay out from behind the chicken coop.

Mama lit up a cigarette. The smoke formed a gray corona above her blond hair. “This should be fun,” she said without joy.

“We have to learn how. Large Marge and Thelma both said so,” Leni said.

Mama nodded.

Leni moved to the driver’s seat. “Uh. Mama? You noticed that Dad is sorta … prickly about Mr. Walker, right?”

Mama turned. Their eyes met. “Is he?” she said coolly.

“You know he is. So. I mean. You know how he can get if you … you know. Flirt.”

Dad thumped on the front of the bus so hard Mama flinched and made a little sound, like a bitten-off scream. She dropped her cigarette and scrambled down to find it.

Leni knew her mama wouldn’t respond anyway; that was another facet of their family weirdness. Dad blew his temper and Mama somehow encouraged it. Like maybe she needed to know how much he loved her all the time.

Dad herded Leni and Mama out of the bus and over the bumpy terrain to where he’d set up the bale of hay with a target on it.

He lifted his rifle from its leather scabbard, aimed, and shot, hitting the target dead center in the head he’d drawn on a piece of paper with a Magic Marker. A bunch of birds flew up from the trees, scattered through the blue sky, cawing angrily at Dad for disturbing them. A giant bald eagle, with a wingspan of at least six feet, glided in to take their place. It perched on an uppermost branch of a tree, pointed its yellow beak down at them. “That’s what I expect of you two,” Dad said.

Mama exhaled smoke. “We’re going to be here awhile, baby girl.”

Dad handed Leni the rifle. “Okay, Red. Let’s see what you’ve got naturally. Look through the scope—don’t get too close—and when you have the target in your sight, squeeze the trigger. Slow and steady. Breathe evenly. Okay, aim. I’ll tell you when to shoot. Watch out for—”

She lifted the rifle, aimed, thought, Wow, Matthew, I can’t wait to tell you, and accidently pulled the trigger.

The rifle hit her shoulder hard enough to knock her off her feet and the sight slammed into her eye area with a crack that sounded like breaking bone.

Leni screamed in pain, dropped the rifle, and collapsed to her knees in the mud, clamping a hand over her throbbing eye. It hurt so badly she felt sick to her stomach, almost puked.

She was still screaming and crying when she felt someone drop in place beside her, felt a hand rubbing her back. “Shit, Red,” Dad said. “I didn’t tell you to shoot. You’re okay. Just breathe. It’s a normal rookie mistake. You’ll be fine.”

“Is she okay?” Mama screamed. “Is she?”

Dad pulled Leni to her feet. “No crying, Leni,” he said. “This isn’t some beauty-pageant training where you learn to sing for a college scholarship. You have to listen to me. This is your life I’m trying to save.”

“But…” It hurt so badly. A headache burst into pounding life behind her eyes. She couldn’t see well out of her injured eye. Half the world was blurry. It hurt even more that he didn’t care about how much it hurt. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for herself. She would bet Tom Walker never treated Matthew this way.

“Stop it, Lenora,” Dad said, giving her shoulder a little shake. “You said you liked Alaska and wanted to belong here.”

“Ernt, please, she’s not a soldier,” Mama said.

Dad spun Leni around, gripped her shoulders, shook her hard. “How many girls were abducted in Seattle before we left?”

“L-lots. One every month. Sometimes more.”

“Who were they?”

“Just girls. Teenagers, mostly?”

“And Patty Hearst was taken from her apartment, with her boyfriend right there, right?”