The Brotherhood of the Willing and Other Stories
Five vignettes in five minutes
Brotherhood of the Willing
Once this last test is passed I’ll be golden.
That’s what I keep telling myself as I shimmied up the drainpipe.
The first few were so easy they weren’t even a test, though the thing with the dog made me a little sick to my stomach. I love animals.
Still, the test was all about what you could do, not what you want to do.
Outsiders never understand. They think we’re just a bunch of violent thugs who run around the city in red leather jackets committing crimes. Scaring citizens.
But that’s not it. It’s a brotherhood of the willing.
Badger Bob is Glad
The blizzard hit before we could get to Badger Bob’s cabin. The bullet in Roy’s leg pained him, but the cold soon took care of that, the blood freezing his trousers to the saddle so he couldn’t fall out.
Lord, it was cold. The north wind blew down that long plain with never a tree nor hill to stop it, drifts piled high as your shoulder. We was all snowblind by the third day and might have missed the cabin altogether had not Badger Bob seen us coming and fired his rifle.
He was especially happy to see our horses.
Sister of the Road
I ain’t against work when I can get it, long as it’s temporary. I can’t stick in a place for long. I get the itch. First time I jumped a freight was the first time I ever felt alive. I wasn’t running from nothing. My home life wasn’t exactly what you saw on TV, but it wasn’t monstrous. I still keep in touch with them, at least with Ma. I show up Christmas or Easter some years, if it’s convenient.
This life has changed in the years I done it. Less opportunity. You see them old-time hobo movies or read the stories and think you know a thing or two. The hobo code and all that. But it ain’t like that now. It’s more serious, and more dangerous. I never let on that I’m a woman, now. Learned that lesson hard.
When it stops suiting me, I guess I’ll quit.
Wish for Wishes
Her favorite stories were full of wishes granted. A girl was lost in the forest and met a creature in distress. A dwarf or a fairy. The girl would do the creature a kindness because she had a good heart.
Because she expected nothing in return, the creature would reward her with wishes. She would be a princess, or her mother would be healed.
She walked through the clearcut, ran her finger across the stumps. She wished for wishes, but this ragged field was no forest. There were no creatures of any kind.
Besides, she would always expect wishes in return.
Everything Must Go
Maybe she’s worried about the sheriff standing there. Maybe she’s counting herself lucky that all she’s losing this time is the apartment.
“You don’t pay, you can’t stay,” the Greek landlord says to her like it’s some kind of philosophy.
Me, I don’t say nothing, but I try not to look at the drawings on the empty refrigerator, nor at the framed family photos on the TV, the ratty stuffed animals in the jam-packed kids’ rooms.
Joe and me work solid and quiet, getting it done while the old lady just stands there, making a point of not crying.