All Green, Part 8
A serialized short story (that is turning into a short novel.)
Continued from Part 7:
I took a deep breath and held it. Without giving myself a chance to think twice, I stood up and started walking down the path, in full view of the muttering man and whoever might be watching from the windows of the house.
I stepped out from under the trees and into the yard. As I edged carefully toward him, the old man kept whispering to himself. I had almost reached the nearest side of the stone circle before he seemed to notice me.
His mouth paused mid-verse, half-open, and looped into a droopy smile. Slowly, his eyelids rolled open. When he looked at me, his pupils were as big as storm drains, whirlpooling all the light in the clearing into them.
If he was surprised to find a stranger standing in his yard, interrupting his prayers, he didn’t show it.
“Hey, man,” said Bone Man, casually, smiling, as if he’d just woken up from a nap. “You hungry?”
Over the weeks we’d spent getting ready to go looking for Bone Man, I’d been practicing what I’d say when I finally met him.
Working for barter goods, lying awake at night, sitting around with Tucker—I went through it over and over again in my head: all the ways to sound tough, or clever, winning Bone Man over and convincing him to do business with us. What to do if he tried to fight us. I had a hundred different lines ready for whatever he threw at us. I was ready to be a gangster. A goddamn stone-cold killer.
And there he stood: moon-eyed, dope-smiled, gazing up at me like a garden gnome. Asking me if I wanted lunch. Not wearing any pants, as far as I could see.
“Smells good,” was all I could think to say.
He grinned and nodded. “Venison stew. I just…” His eyes drifted away to the trees, hands floating, fingers moving like they were searching for the keys on a piano. He pressed his palms together and looked back at me. “Where’s the rest of you?”
“What?”
He shrugged, still grinning. “I thought there’d be more of you.”
“How’d you know anybody was coming?”
Waving the question away, his fingers absently traced shapes in the air. “Just a feeling.” He peered at me. “That ever happen to you?”
“I guess, yeah.”
His gaze wandered back to the trees as he nodded his head. “Right on.”
We were getting nowhere fast.
“I was hoping to barter with you,” I said.
His eyes meandered back to me. “You got any tobacco?”
“I, uh, think Ray’s got some.”
He looked over my shoulder. “Is that Ray?”
I turned to see Tucker creeping down the path into the clearing. “No. That’s Tucker. And I’m Mark. And you’re…”
He laughed. “I’m nobody, you know?” His hands danced out again. “I’m just a little man. Should have been a pair of ragged claws… you know how it is. Scuttling across the floors of silent seas… how’s it go, man?”
Tucker walked up to us. He cleared his throat. “Fine,” he said quietly.
“Right on,” said the little man. He smiled at us triumphantly, like we were a pair of interesting birds, unknown to science, who’d happened to land in his yard.
“This is Tucker,” I said.
“Who doesn’t have the tobacco.”
“Right.” I looked at Tucker. “No tobacco?”
Tucker shook his head.
“Because he’s not Ray,” said the grinning man, beaming proudly, as if we’d all cracked the code together.
Tucker cleared his throat and looked at me frantically. “This is… Bone Man?”
“I guess.” I looked at the man, who was intently following some unseen drama in the treetops. “You’re Bone Man?”
He nodded absently, mouth ajar, entranced by the swaying branches. “That’s what they call me.”
“Right. Yes.” I nodded reassuringly at Tucker. “We were hoping to barter with you.”
Bone Man dragged his attention back to us. “Right on. Let me check with my friends.” He turned and ambled back toward the house.
“Wait—” Tucker squeaked.
A fist clenched around my heart.
I expected a herd of bull-necked speed freaks to come bursting out through the back door, ready to rob us and leave us for dead. Ray and Henry were nowhere in sight. Tucker and I would be laid out in pieces next to the fly-covered haunch on the bloody altar before we could be rescued.
Bone Man knelt by one of the standing stones and pulled a leather bag out of the grass. He carried it back to where we stood and plopped onto the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of us. I was relieved to see that he wore a tattered pair of cotton shorts underneath his shirt.
He closed his eyes and shook the bag. His mouth moved silently. Still with his eyes closed, he upended the bag and spilled out its contents. A collection of bones tumbled onto the dirt: ribs, vertebrae, femurs, straw-thin bird bones, predators’ teeth. As they clacked together and settled onto the ground, he opened his eyes, surveying the scattering in front of him—nodded, grunted, scratched his chin through his scraggly beard.
As he sat with his back toward the house and studied the bones, Henry appeared at the edge of yard behind him, crouching among the weeds.
I glanced at Tucker. He was staring at Henry, looking like he’d swallowed his own tongue.
With the carbine’s stock pressed to his shoulder, Henry quick-stepped across the yard behind Bone Man, aiming first at the windows of the house, then at the back door. He reached the nearest corner and stepped lightly onto the porch, hugging the wall, picking his way around a mess of old crates and tools.
“Looks like a good day for you two,” said Bone Man, absorbed in his reading.
“Yeah?” I said.
Tucker let out a weak cough.
Henry crept along the porch and paused beside the entrance to the house, lowering his gun just enough to ease the screen door open.
“As far as getting what you came for, yeah,” said Bone Man. “Real auspicious energy. But it won’t be easy.” He gazed up at us and slowly traced an arc in the air with his hands. “Bad vibes on the periphery. Heavy shit.”
I tried to keep my eyes on Bone Man’s upturned face, while at the edge of my vision, I watched Henry disappear into the house and softly close the screen door.
“There’s a higher purpose here,” said Bone Man. He looked serious for the first time since I stepped into the clearing. “Somebody’s watching over you.” He paused. “Or maybe just watching you.”
I looked hard at him. “Who?”
He gave me a sly smile. “You don’t know?”
Tucker turned his head to look at me.
“I don’t,” I said to Bone Man. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Not my place,” he said with an apologetic look. He held out his hands to me, palms up. “I’m just a little man, you know?”
Behind him, Henry slipped out the back door.
He had the gun trained on Bone Man. Underneath the blank, black stare of his sunglasses, there was murder on his face. He stepped quickly across the yard.
Tucker and I both yelled at once.
Just as Bone Man turned his head to look around, Henry’s booted foot came down between his shoulder blades and sent him sprawling. He landed face-first in the dirt, scattering the spread of bones. Henry stood over him with the carbine aimed at his head.
“You the piece of shit that tried to blow me up?” he shouted. The cords in his neck stood out beneath the collar of his damp shirt. Veins pulsed around his temples.
Bone Man spluttered in the dust. “Jesus, man, it was just a little popper, a firecracker! Not enough charge to—”
Henry kicked him savagely in the ribs. “Shut the fuck up.” He leaned down and held the carbine’s barrel close to Bone Man’s head. “There’s nobody else here,” he said to us. “Let’s just cap this guy and take the stuff.”
Tucker waved his hands helplessly.
“Henry,” I said. “We’re not killing him.”
“Why the fuck not.”
“ ‘Cause we’re not thieves. And we’re not killers.”
Henry spat into the dirt beside Bone Man’s head. “Speak for yourself.”
“Come on, Henry.” It was Ray’s voice behind us. “We don’t want to make a bunch of noise and rile up the neighbors.”
“Then let me borrow your knife.”
Ray stepped up next to us, and sighed. “It’s been a long day. Nobody’s got the energy to bury a body, and we’re wasting daylight already. Let’s just talk this out.”
“You can have it,” said Bone Man from the ground. “I’m not asking for anything.”
“I know I can have it. It’s just up to me whether you’re still breathing afterwards.”
“Goddammit, Henry, he’s cooperating,” I said. “Just let him up.”
Something like a low growl came from Henry’s throat. His hands squeezed the grip of the carbine with whitened knuckles. We waited for the explosion.
No shot came.
Slowly, the tension in Henry’s body ebbed away. He spat again, and stepped over Bone Man’s splayed legs. “Got lucky today, asshole,” he snarled.
“You check the front yet?” asked Ray.
Henry kicked at a rib bone that lay close to his foot. “Just the house.”
Ray nodded. “Maybe want to take a look? I’ll keep an eye on things here.”
“Yeah. Fine. But if I see one more goddamn tripwire, I’m coming back and airing this son of a bitch out.”
“Fair enough,” said Ray placidly, standing one tip of his bow on the ground and resting his hands on the other. Henry stomped across the yard and disappeared around the other side of the house.
Tucker helped Bone Man to his feet. “We can trade. We’re not robbing you.”
Bone Man stood unsteadily, coughed, and spat the grit from his mouth. “I’ve got plenty. It doesn’t cost much to grow. And it’s not like I’m running a company out here. I’m just one strand in the mycelium, facilitating the flow. For those that deserve it, right? Although, yeah, still hoping for some tobacco.” He eyed Ray cautiously. “You got any tobacco?”
“Nope,” said Ray, gazing at the sky.
Bone Man’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”
Ray nodded.
“Bummer.” He turned back to Tucker. “How much you need?”
Tucker cleared his throat. “Two pounds.”
Bone Man prodded tenderly at the ribs where he’d been kicked. “There’s some ready in the kitchen cabinet, just inside the door. Help yourself.”
“We need something fresh for a spore print, too.”
“You know how to grow?”
“I think so,” said Tucker quietly.
Bone Man looked at him levelly. “You sure you’re ready for that? Joining the priesthood?”
Tucker nodded.
“The cost is high sometimes.”
Tucker frowned. “I thought you said it didn’t cost much.”
“Different kinds of cost,” said Bone Man gravely. “There’s, you know, expectations.” His hands resumed their weaving in the empty space between them. “These are ancient things. Powerful, right? Like, the timeline where they exist, is just…” He made an expansive, swirling gesture, circulating an invisible orb between his outstretched fingers. “And the way they interact with us, it’s… you’re a conduit, right? But they don’t always understand. Human emotions, and everything. Attachments. Having only one body. The help they give isn’t always the help you want, you know?”
“Are we… still talking about mushrooms?”
Bone Man squinted at him. “You’re sure you want this? You know what you’re getting into?”
“I’ll figure it out. We need this.”
Bone Man nodded. “Sure, man, yeah. Vaya con Dios. I’ll set you up. As long as you can keep that maniac away from me,” he said, tilting his head toward the front of the house. He turned toward Ray. “You good with us going inside?”
Ray shrugged. “As long as nobody kills nobody. It’s not me you have to worry about if you get squirrelly. I’ve used up all my good deeds for today.”
Bone Man waved peaceably and led the way across the yard, limping slightly as he went. Tucker followed him through the back door.
Ray and I were left standing among the circle of stones. He studied me without speaking, while I shuffled nervously under his gaze. For a moment, he seemed about to say something, but then thought better of it and resumed his silent vigil.
In the sky above us, the sun tilted toward the horizon. The copper-colored light thickened into evening. A mourning dove cooed from somewhere nearby.
The miles we had already overcome that day turned back around to face us on the long hike home.
Tall grass rustled as Henry returned from the far side of the house. “All clear out front. No surprises. Just more of that spooky quiet shit.”
The screen door’s rusty hinges complained as Tucker emerged onto the back porch, settling the newly-loaded pack on his back, with Bone Man following behind him.
Henry lifted his chin toward Tucker’s pack, still holding his gun ready. “We happy?”
Tucker flashed a tense thumbs-up. “Very happy. All friends here.”
Bone Man was careful to keep Tucker between himself and Henry as he stepped out onto the porch. “I wish I could invite you all over for dinner, but, you know, not feeling so great all of a sudden. I should probably lie down for a bit. Must have done something to my back, somehow.” He looked warily at Henry. “Where’d you serve, soldier boy?”
“Venezuela. Three tours.”
“Right on. I did two in Iran.”
Henry grunted. “Tough shit. Which company? Infantry?”
“Nah. Recon. For an old company called Vinnell. I was a tunnel rat in Karaj. Did my last stint with a sniper team.”
Henry looked at him with mild interest. “Well shit, man. You should’ve said something. I wouldn’t have kicked you so hard if I knew you were a closer. You did the full ride and cashed out?”
Bone Man shook his head and put on a thin smile. Without his dopey, sunburst grin, he suddenly looked like he was eighty years old. “I got killed.” His left hand reached across his body and patted the ribs under his right arm. “Our position got shelled. Mortar shrapnel took a six-inch chunk out of me. I bled out in the chopper… medics said my heart stopped for four minutes before they reeled me back in, you know, got me back in my body. But I didn’t come all the way back to life until I moved out here.” He looked at Henry. “They still calling it the Green Zone over there? Inside the barricades?”
Henry nodded.
“You ever notice how there’s never anything green in the Green Zone? No plants. No bushes, no trees, nothing growing. They cut it all down, ripped it all up. Too many places for things to hide, right? Bombs, snipers, whatever. They sanded everything down to flat concrete. Killed everything else to keep us alive. Maybe it kept us from getting shot, or blown up, or whatever, for a while, I guess.” He rubbed his side absently, his eyes on the past. “But I don’t know if that’s the same as keeping us alive, you know? You die in a different way. And that heavy shit is harder to fix than just fabbing up some new ribs.” He studied Henry for a moment. “Not that a stone-cold operator like you needs to worry about any of that.”
Without waiting for Henry’s reply, he looked up at the sky. “Day’s getting on, huh. It seems like you all have everything you need. I guess you’ll want to be getting on home, right? Wouldn’t want to get caught wandering around out there in the dark. You don’t know what’s out there.”
He looked at Tucker with what seemed like a meaningful glance, before turning his attention back to the rest of us.
“Go ahead and fill up your canteens at the well before you leave”—he pointed toward an old pump handle by the neglected shed—“and then you can see yourselves on out. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but I’ve still got my old rifle inside, and if I see any of you here again… si vis pacem, para bellum, you know? No hard feelings. Good luck out there.” With that, he slipped back through the screen door and into the kitchen, closing the interior door with a heavy thud. The rattling of locks, chains, and deadbolts came from inside. We were left in the growing stillness of late afternoon, with nothing but the buzzing flies on the altar for company.
“Well,” said Henry philosophically. “Reckon we can still burn the house down.”
Ray squeezed his eyes shut with a pained expression. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s late. We’ll probably have to bivouac out here somewhere no matter what. But if we can all refrain from messing around too much, it doesn’t have to be in the forest. We’ll make it back to that little neighborhood before dark if we hustle up.” He favored me with a wry smile. “Unless Mark can use his magic powers to find us a bed and breakfast nearby.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Let’s get moving. I’m happy to take point again. Just try to keep up this time.”
Ray barked out a laugh. “Damn me, listen to this. Old Mark wins a showdown with one burned-out hippy, and all of a sudden he’s taking my place. After everything I’ve done.” He chuckled. “Lead on, then.”
I was feeling twelve feet tall as we marched back through the old forest. We had everything we’d come for, and still had our packs full of barter goods. Nobody had gotten hurt. We were heading home.
The bomb bolted to the tree was waiting for us with its tripwire, plainly visible from the direction we were walking, even in the gathering gloom. It seemed like a harmless joke now. We all stepped casually over the wire.
Once we were safely on the other side, Henry told us to wait up. He pulled a heavy section of branch from out of the brush and heaved it onto the tripwire. A loud explosion came from the other side of the tree. The peace of the twilight forest was shattered, and a haze of powder smoke filled the air. Henry dusted his hands off.
“Asshole,” he muttered as he rejoined us.
Ray had packed his pipe while we waited for Henry, and was puffing on it serenely. “Hope that doesn’t bother the neighbors.”
“It’s his problem now,” said Henry. “Let’s go.”
I expected to find Tucker in spirits as high as mine, but his face looked drawn, from what I could see in the growing shadows. He was clearing his throat.
“What’s going on?” I said. “We fucking did it, man. We won. We’re going home.”
He gave me a weak smile. “I know. We’re just not there yet. And Bone Man said it’s dangerous out here.”
“Yeah, but there’s four of us, and we’ve got a gun. The animals aren’t gonna bother us, and the meth heads are gonna be asleep.”
“He said it wasn’t just animals, though.” Tucker looked nervously around the darkening forest. “He told me to watch out for the green man.”
“What the hell is a green man?”
“He wouldn’t say. Or couldn’t.”
The hush in the forest gathered back around us, as evening turned to night.
Continued in Part 9.