Banished To Earth Book Two, Souls Adrift (14)

 48

 “Tuck, I know what I am. I know where I came from. I’m thousands of years old. Thank God I don’t remember all my past. But if we are nothing but energized brain cells, then I can’t be what I am, and neither can you. Still, you don’t have to believe anything. But yelling at Trudy is not the way we free ourselves from the Authority.”

 

     “I wasn’t yelling.”

 

   “Tucker,” Beth said, “you were getting loud, and Trudy is our host.”

 

   Tucker sank back into his chair. “It hurt.” He finally said. “Kinda scraped the bone.”

 

    Beth, who was sitting beside him, took his hand. “What hurt?”

 

    Tucker coughed, “My parents had a ranch and a daughter, Cindy. My baby sister. They loved us, love tendin’ cattle, but loved God more, way more, too much more.

 

    People would come over twice a week, a bunch of ‘em. My folks called em’ cottage prayer meetings. My Daddy would preach; the man could talk; I’ll give him that. And I was into it. My dreams had just started. Told my folks. They swore it was demons, and I needed exorcisms.”

 

  Trudy got up and sat beside him. Beth was still holding his hand. She smiled at Beth.

 

    “Sumthin’ told me to just shut up talkin’ about aliens and changin’ and the Fall. But, being a kid, I just wanted my folks to help me. And they did, in the worst possible way. They got it in their head that Baptism was the answer. Me and that old deep watering hole out behind the house got mighty close. Every night a dream, sometimes I’d scream, sometimes I’d sleepwalk, find some paper and a pen and write stuff down. My folks thought maybe I was a prophet or possessed. They just couldn’t make me fit into their world.

 

    So, they tried washing it away in that waterin’ hole. After a while it started feelin’like water boardin’. They weren’t bad people, just confused, desperate and overzealous.”

 

    “And your sister,” Trudy asked, bit her lip when she saw how wet his eyes were.

 

   “Drowned.” He said. “She drowned, won’t no accident either. Her note said ‘walkin’ to God.’”

 

    “What?” Trudy exclaimed.

 

    “All that talk about Heaven and sacrifice, and surrenderin’ she was eight. I was nine. Two little pieces of clay, all mashed up in loving, ignorant hands. Science is my God, now. She sacrificed herself to save me. We all died that night. I stuck around until they died, for real. Did my duty.”

 

    “I didn’t know.” Trudy stroked tears from his cheek.

 

  49

 

    “Trudy, darlin’ kinda blew up. Sore spot,’ ya’kinda stomped right on it. Still don’t know ‘bout this spiritual stuff, you have a right to believe whatever you like, and I kinda forgot about, Chase, ah, Davin and Pry. Don’t doubt them at all. They coulda’ died tryin’ to save me. That counts. It hurts, but it counts.”

 

    “Well, Tucker, we’ll just walk softly, how ‘bout that?”

 

    “Sounds good, Trudy.”

 

    “What’s this about my horses?”

 

    “We kin’ check em’ out together.”

 

     “Yes we can.”

 

 

 

    Chapter 50

 

    The sun hung low. Shadows stretched across the ground. Dark hands reaching out. A tunnel of greyness awaited them as Trudy and Tucker approached the stable. The corral gate was at the back of the barn, at the end of the ‘tunnel’. The stalls were empty.

 

    “I don’t think they’re eatin,” Said Tucker when he unlatched the gate. “Love that smell.”

 

   “Horse manure and hay?”

  

    “Yeah, guess I really am a cowboy.”

   

     He turned toward Trudy. She was gone. “Hey, where’d ya’ go?”

 

   “Feed bags she yelled from one of the stables. Had to get my rubber boots too.”

 

    “Good idea.” He closed the gate and hurried back to help her.

 

    “Wanna keep the dung on the ground and not on my nice clean floors.”

 

     “I heard that, be sure to watch my step. ”

 

      “You do that.”

   

   A short time later, they were nearing the horses. “Reckon they’re asleep?” Trudy asked, just before Tucker ran his hand across the larger black horses’ back. It didn’t flinch.

 

“Smoky right?” He asked.

 

   “Nope, that’s Thor.” Trudy said as she combed her fingers through the long black mane of her buckskin, Smokey. It did not move.

 

    “Cover its eyes,” Tucker suggested.

 

  She did. It shook its head and whinnied.

   

“It’s the oak, alright.” Tucked said.

 

    “I’ll get a couple of blankets and two bridals. We gotta get ‘em inside.”

 

   It was a long walk back to the stable. Tucker whipped open a portal to save some time.

 

    They were soon leading two blindfolded horses to the long metal watering trough by the stable gate.

 

   “That’s not good.” Trudy mused aloud.

 

    “The tree?”

   

“Nah, well yeah, that too. But I don’t neglect my babies. I did this time.”