> Boston Mountains, Boone County
> Dave MacCready’s Cabin
>10.OCT.2019
> 0915..///

The fog had burned away by this time as they passed northbound over the Buffalo River and crossed the county line. The hills of the Ozarks were still thick and green, with only a few hints of gold showing in some early turning hickory trees. Beneath the lush foliage, shale mountains rose from the river and folded over, buckled and worn down with eons of time. It was a lovely country that never failed to inspire Mal Freeman, each time he saw it as something new, a balm from Fayetteville that he shared with his Dad. 

He watched out the window as the trees rushed past, his mother flying the silver Mercedes S Class along the lazy winding roads. Kaliah had memories of these mountains as well, brief but powerful memories of a time when she thought love might conquer all. It might have ended but it resulted in the boy beside her who she and Dave both loved with a fierceness. 

It was a small sign, “Welcome to Boone County. Keep Boone County Beautiful.” that caught her eye as they swept past it. She gripped the steering wheel a little harder, a brief flash of what that sign really meant in Boone County. Keep it Beautiful, keep it White, keep it Christian. Keep it that way by any means necessary. The MacCready clan, Dave’s estranged family, were a keeper of this promise. She knew all too well and even if it had been years ago, she never forgot the look in the eye of his father when he knew what she was to Dave. 

The brief memory surfaced and she glanced at Mal who was staring out the window, his light brown skin and tight curls a blend but he would always be black in the eyes of these people. But he was Dave’s boy, he was protected by that, Kaliah always had to remind herself when she let Mal go to his father’s house. It was in the hills, away from the town where malice existed under a thin veneer that she could breath a little better. 

Kaliah turned off the thin ribbon of highway and onto an unpaved road, gravel crunching under the sedan’s tires. Bella whined in the backseat, pushing her large square head between the window and Mal’s headrest. They were getting close and somewhere in her dog brain she might have recognized the landscape or more likely sensed the growing anticipation in her boy. 

“Don’t forget to call me,” Kaliah said, making the curving turn as the gradient turned steep but the car handled it with ease, the road scanning technology adjusting for bumps. It was a different ride than banging along in Dave’s pickup. 

“Aren’t you going to be busy?” Mal replied, unable to keep the hint of disapproval from his voice. 

“I’m never too busy for you,” she replied, her brow furrowing slightly under the perfectly applied makeup. . “You know that, don’t act like that. I thought you liked Daniel.” 

Mal shrugged, he liked Daniel as a person, but the idea that he and his mother were serious enough that he met the man and he had stayed over at their house gave him trepidation. Despite his father’s absence lately, Mal had hoped they might reconcile, especially after Dave had stayed over the last time. But it was always the same, the flame burned hot and died quick, then they would part and find someone to fill that empty space. Mal was fooling himself again, he was getting too old to keep thinking their little family might be under the same roof one day. It had been this way his whole life. 

“Yeah, he’s cool, I guess,” he said, “But you really like him don’t you?”

Kaliah pressed her full lips together then nodded, “Yeah, I really do.”

“Do you love him?” 

She paused then shook her head, “That’s a loaded word, boy. And I don’t know yet. But I do like him a lot and he likes you, Mal. He wants to be there for you.”

“I have a Dad,” Mal said, slouching into his seat. “At least I think I still do.”

Kaliah sighed, “Stop that feeling sorry for yourself, your dad loves you. He just has some things going on and can’t be there like he was, you know this.”

“I know.” 

Silence fell between them and Mal shifted, his sullen expression lifting when he recognized the creek that flowed downhill, the black and gray stones glistening under the spray of water. They were almost there and the excitement at finally seeing Dave after so long overroad his stubborn anger at being abandoned when he needed him. 

“Almost there,” he said, leaning forward and Bella wagged her whip tail, slapping at the tumbled blanket that covered the leather seats in a vain attempt to protect them from her claws. 

They pulled towards the cabin, the old pick up with the camper in place parked out front but no sign of Dave. Kaliah had hardly put the car into park when Mal was out the door, his lanky frame taller than he was the last time he had been up here. When they found that body and whatever happened had sucked his Dad into some dark plot that he could not begin to guess at. 

Mal rubbed his hand against his jeans, he could still feel the bone that he had picked up. The fact it was human still bothered him though he never let on, he wasn’t a pussy. He called Bella who clambered through the gap between the seat and door before he could bring the seat down and she ran in circles, sniffing the ground then pulled her head up, tongue lolling out. 

Kaliah shook her head as she stepped out, “That dog.” 

She opened the trunk and began to take out the food she packed and Mal’s bag as the boy ran to look for his dad. 

Around the back of the house, Dave stared down the line of a carbon arrow. The recurve bow he held was a custom job, made years before in his grandfather's workshop, and while he owned a half-dozen others, two of which he'd made himself, this was the one he loved best. The draw was only 45 pounds, just enough to drop a whitetail at 30 yards, but it was the first one he'd made with his grampa, and the one he always went back to. 

Dave took a breath and drew, eyeing the gap between arrow and target as he'd been taught. The target, a foam deer with an outline around the killzone, was weathered from years of use. While Dave's tactical skills lay solidly with the rifle, he'd always preferred hunting with a bow. There was more challenge, more technique, and over the years he'd become one hell of an archer. 

Right now, though, only one arrow showed on the target, stuck firmly in the neck of the foam deer. Four more stuck nose-up in the grass around it. 

Dave took another breath and then released, allowing the string to slip from his fingers. The arrow crossed the distance in a flash, striking high and glancing off the back of the target to disappear into the trees behind it. Dave swore and lowered the bow, his eyes hard. 

He stared at the target, frustration building, and then dropped the bow. His hand flashed to his thigh, the Sig holstered there seeming to leap into his hand, the other finding the grip as the weapon rose.  Three quick shots rang out and foam flew. After a moment he shoved the gun back into the holster. Two black holes showed in the ten-ring. The third had blown through the deer's painted-on eye. He sighed and closed the retention on his holster, looking over at Rufus, who watched from the shade of the back porch. 

"What're you lookin' at," Dave grumbled. Rufus yawned, clearly unimpressed. Then he suddenly perked up. The big dog growled once, a low rumble, then leapt from the porch and vanished into the trees. 

"Shit," Dave muttered. He left his bow where it lay, jogging to the corner of the house and slipping a fresh magazine into his Sig. He peeked around it, his blood thundering, and then sighed as he spotted Kaliah's car. When he saw the door open and Mal stepped out his heart twisted. Without a second thought he ran around the house, jogging towards his son. 

The sudden staccato of gunshots made Kaliah look up sharply, her eyes snapping to her son but he was not alarmed or injured. Mal stood with Bella who was barking at the noise then bouncing around when the large mastiff appeared. 

“Rufus!” Mal called and could not keep Bella from racing over, running circles around the beast of a dog and making puppy play bows, whipping her tail back and forth submissively. The pit bull mix was all energy and dumb happy but Rufus waited stoically, sniffing at her when she got close but made no move to engage her play. 

Mal caught a glimpse of movement and saw Dave emerge, his beard and longer hair was still something he was not used to seeing. But it was his eyes, those eyes that he was so familiar with that struck him. Mal did not know how to articulate it, but the sensation he felt made him stand still rather than run to Dave. He waited, giving a small wave of recognition. 

“Hey Dad,” he said, then looked back at his mother, almost instinctual reassurance that she was still there. The boy turned to face Dave again, the stranger that was a shadow behind his father’s eyes still lurked. He shifted his weight then said, “Mom brought sandwiches.”

Dave slowed, seeing the unexpected wariness in Mal’s eyes. He felt his gut clench at the sight of it, but he forced it aside, and the moment he heard Mal’s voice he broke into a grin. He pulled Mal into a fierce hug, squeezing him tightly.

“Sandwiches’ll wait,” he said, crushing Mal to his chest.

Mal returned the hug, the comfort of the familiar affectionate gesture brushed away his initial reaction. He had missed his Dad and the resentment and anger melted for now, he still had questions but it could wait. 

Bella jumped around, pawing at Dave and Mal until Kaliah pulled her away and put a hand on Mal’s shoulder. The boy pulled back and his mother looked up at Dave, examining him for a moment before smiling. “It’s good to see you in one piece,” she said, “I’m going to need to be running soon, can we talk?” 

She glanced at Mal who knew that look and he sighed, shuffling over to pet Rufus and scratch behind his floppy ears. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dave said, reluctantly releasing Mal. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze, then turned his attention to Kaliah. He motioned her aside with a jerk of his head, walking a few steps away to keep the conversation private. “What’s up?” 

Kaliah walked with him, watching him from the side of her eye. “A few things, like I understand you’re doing some secret agent things but our son needs you. He got into a fight last month, put another boy in the hospital. Lucky for Mal his mother is a pitbull of an attorney. He was defending himself but I saw the other boy.”

She turned and faced Dave, “He beat that kid past anything self defense should have covered, being a minor and the instigating factor that the boy he fought had been using racial slurs and started it that kept Mal out of juvy.” 

Dave looked over towards Mal, shock plain in his eyes. The idea of his son beating somebody that badly was...troubling. Particularly given the things that Dave had recently discovered he himself was capable of. He looked back at Kaliah. 

“I’ll...Uh...I’ll talk to him,” Dave mumbled. “I don’t...You know I ain’t…” He glanced back at Mal. While he hadn’t told Mal to solve his problems with violence, he had been the one to teach the boy to fight. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“Mhmm,” Kaliah hummed, the doubt still in the raise of her brow. “Another thing, I’ve been seeing someone. He’s a lawyer from DC and well, he’s over this weekend. He’s met Mal.”

She took a deep breath, running her hand over the thick curls, “You know I don’t just introduce any date to Mal. Daniel’s a good man and I think we might be seeing each other for sometime.”

Her dark eyes found Dave’s blue, even now the pull was there, distant under her affection for the new love but it would likely never leave her. “I thought I’d let you know.”

Dave nodded. While there was some distant spark of pain at the knowledge Kaliah was with someone, more than anything he felt relief. He sighed and smiled. 

“I appreciate it,” he said. “I uh...I’ve actually met somebody, too. Someone on my team. You’d like her.” He grinned. “Another smart one, somehow fallin’ for the Arkansas backwoods charm.” 

“Is that so?” Kaliah said, “I can’t imagine how she might have fallen for your charm.”

She smiled a little, she knew that backwoods charm all too well. “Is it serious?”

“Pretty serious,” he nodded. “It’s moved kinda fast, but uh...You know. Nature of what we’re doin’, I guess.” Dave shrugged. “Not sure when I’ll have her up here, things are kinda crazy with...Well, with what’s goin’ on.” 

He shook his head, glaring at the ground. “I hate all these secrets, I do. That ain’t me, you know that.” 

Kaliah crossed her arms under her breasts, “Yes, I know it’s not you. I also understand the nature of NDAs. I just hope it’s worth it.” 

Her dark gaze held him before she softened, “And she better treat you right or she’ll have me to answer to.” 

Dave laughed and reached up to tug at his beard, then ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I’ll be sure an’ let her know,” he said. He pointed a finger at her. “An’ the same goes for this Daniel guy. He messes around, you lemme know.” 

She reached up and patted his shoulder, “You’ll be the first to know. But Daniel’s good, he was teaching Mal to play lacrosse and we’ve worked together for the past year.” 

Kaliah tilted her head, looking up at Dave, “But he’s never going to replace you.”

Dave nodded, looking back over at Mal. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Look, like I said, I’ll talk to Mal about...About the fight. See where his head was at.” 

“Good, do that,” she said, “He needs to get that off his chest, it’s been a month and he’s been doing better but he needs you. I’ll be back Sunday evening to pick him up.” 

She stepped away from him and went to Mal, hugging him and giving him a kiss on his cheek. He was already tall enough that she could no longer reach the top of his head. After murmuring a few words, she had him get his bag and the cooler before climbing into the Mercedes. 

Mal waved and watched until the silver car vanished around the curve of the dirt road. He turned and Bella ran after him, barking as she spotted a squirrel and gave chase. The boy laughed, “You can’t give it a warning, you’ll never catch it.” 

He smiled brightly at Dave, “So what are we going to do? I wanted to shoot guns but you know how Mom is. She wouldn’t let Dan take me to the range, he offered, which was pretty cool.” 

Dave felt his throat catch again at the sight of his son's smile. He walked over and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, gave it a firm squeeze. 

"We can do anything you wanna do, bubba," he said. "Just lemme go put my bow away, and then I'm all yours." 

Mal tagged along behind Dave, not letting him out of sight even as the bow was put up. Bow hunting was something he still had not mastered and truth be told, had less interest in than guns. The twang was just not as fun as the bang. 

“I thought maybe some target practice, can I use the AK?” he asked, “Can you teach me how to put a fuse in some C-4?”

Mal knew he was probably pushing it especially since he knew his mother told him about the fight. He tucked his hands in his jacket pockets and added, “Just for fun, you know. Maybe get some pumpkins and blow them up.” 

Dave grinned, though he hesitated for a moment. "We can do the AK, get some pistol work in. We'll have to see about the explosives though, bubba." 

He gave Mal's shoulder a squeeze. "I was thinkin', before it gets real cold, maybe we can do some wildman shit. Remember how we built that rough shelter that time? Maybe we can do that. Go live off the land for a few days." 

It wasn't a firm no so Mal accepted it and then looked up at the trees, the leaves in the high reaches of the Boston mountains were turning gold and red among the still lush green. In a couple of weeks the woods would be ablaze in color and the nights would be chilly enough to bundle up. 

“I remember,” he said, “Where will we go? Stick around here like last time or go off into the mountains?”

Mal reached down to pet Bella who was bumping against him and the memory of the bone clutched in his hand came back and he rubbed his palm vigorously against her smooth coat. All that was over, it was gone thanks to his dad. He trusted this was so and the worst they might see was some fat blackbear still gorging on berries. 

“We’ll go up a ways,” Dave said, nodding deeper into the wilderness. He looked up at the mountain, seeming to be lost for a moment in thought. “Yeah. Up a ways, I think. And we’ll bring a couple rifles. I think you’re about old enough to carry your own.” 

He looked over at Mal and smiled. “How’s that sound? I’ll let ya pack the Romanian.”  

“Hell yeah,” the boy grinned, “When do we get started, we still have time.”

He checked his phone and glanced at Dave, studying his bearded face for a moment, “Yeah it’s only like ten.”

“Five hours too late,” Dave laughed. “Be past noon by the time we got up there, and then we’d still hafta get a shelter built.” He patted Mal on the back, coaxing him towards the house. “We’ll get our gear together, an’ leave at dawn, so we don’t wind up sleepin’ in the cold. Meantime, figure we’ll do a little shootin’ and fill our bellies before we spend a few days eatin’ rabbits and greens.” 

...///

Mal brushed his teeth, washing it down with the well water pumped up to the cabin. It was the last of the running water he would see for a few days and had taken a decently warm shower before changing to the flannel pajamas. He headed back into the narrow hall that cut between the bathroom and the doors to the two bedrooms. Rounding the corner he could see the back of Dave’s head where he sat on the sagging old sofa. 

“Bathroom’s free,” he announced and plopped next to him. “Can we watch Predator?” 

Dave stifled a yawn, but nodded, gesturing towards the TV. It was a comparatively modern one, something he’d gotten for Mal when the boy had expressed interest in movies during his visits. The TV and the DVD player gave them something to do when the mountain weather turned rough and not even Dave felt like being outside. Beneath the TV was a cabinet with a sizable DVD collection. 

“It’s in there somewhere,” Dave said. His basement was organized; ammunition palletized by caliber, guns hung according to use, explosive components safely separated and stored in their inert forms. Any military armory NCO would be proud of the job Dave had done on his private and highly illegal armory. The movie cabinet met none of those expectations. 

As Mal went for the movie Dave walked to his liquor cabinet, taking out a bottle of No. 7 and pouring a measure into a glass. After a moment he poured a second one, this one smaller. 

“We gotta have us a talk though, son,” he said, walking back to the sofa. He set his whiskey on the side table, beside the same .357 he’d pointed at that government man so many months ago. The other he set on the coffee table. 

Mal popped the DVD in the player and turned to grab the remote control from the coffee table. He saw the glass and lifted his gaze to Dave who sounded more serious than his usual light tone. The boy moved over and sat down, then picked up the glass of whiskey and looked into it. 

“Uh, sure,” Mal said, turning the glass in his hand, “What about? The hike tomorrow? Building the shelter, I remember how to do the lean-to, digging it out and stuff.” 

Dave snorted. “Nice try,” he said. He held his own glass, his blue eyes locked on Mal. He looked troubled, but not angry. “Who taught you how to fight?” 

Mal's dark brown eyes wavered but stayed on his father's gaze. He swallowed hard, the subject of the fight was bound to come up, he knew it was just a matter of time. A shadow of the anger he felt after the fight, when Dave could not or would not come, raised a little in his chest before he sighed, his shoulders sagging only slightly, "You did."

Dave nodded. “I did,” he said. “You remember why? You remember what I told you?” 

He answered for the boy, looking down into his glass. “I told you that we only fight when it means protectin’ ourselves, or somebody weaker’n us. Ain’t that right?” 

Mal nodded slowly, rubbing his thumb against the rim of the glass. "Yeah, and I was defending myself. And my friend."

The boy turned to look at Dave, his youthful face showing the similar handsome features he inherited from the man beside him. "There was more of them than us, they started it."

“That’s what your mom said,” Dave nodded again. “She said you started out defendin’ yourself. What happened after that?” 

Mal furrowed his brow, a darkness in his expression, "Do you just want to know what I did wrong? Because that asshole ended up in the hospital. Well, I had to keep him from getting back up, fuck him!"

His heart was racing and the images of blood and the sound of ribs breaking echoed through him. "We weren't doing anything wrong, just playing some one on one at the park. Stephan and me, you remember him? He's a big kid but he doesn't like fighting, he won't even go out for football."

Mal looked at the glass and he saw the amber liquid trembling from the shake in his hand. He took a drink, instantly shuddering and coughing from the liquid fire that coursed through his chest. 

Dave let the outburst slide, though his jaw tightened. He waited for Mal to shake off the burn of the whiskey, his own mind chewing through the likely course of events. 

“Tell me what happened,” he said. Dave reached up and pushed his hand beneath his hat, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “I...know I ain’t been around. Not like usual, and I got reasons for that. But talk to me.” 

Mal put the glass down and sat back, not looking at Dave but at a spot on the wall. "I know you got reasons."

After a moment he began to explain, still looking at the wall. "We were playing basketball at the park and these dudes rolled up on us. Started talking shit, how it was [I]their park[/I] and we should get the fuck out. Stephan wanted to leave but I just..."

Mal shrugged, looking down at the wood plank floors. "I got really pissed off and told them to fuck off. They didn't like that.  They called us names... said we were fags and shit."

A flush crept up his face as he spoke about belittling them. "They called us niggers, Dad." 

His dark eyes shifted to Dave, "So I said that his mom didn't seem to have a problem with us so why did he? Then he swung on me."

A hint of dimples appeared in his face as recalled how he got them to react. So predictable and so dumb. 

"We fought, then his friends went over and tried to push Stephan but he just curled up and they started kicking him," Mal continued, his mouth dry as cotton. "This guy I was fighting, he'd brought his skateboard and swung it at me, caught me in the face. The wheel hit me just below my eye, gave me a fracture the doctor said. After that he swung again but I ducked and went under, tried to throw him with a grapple."

He rubbed his eyes, "I don't know Dad, I just saw red. And I grabbed his board and hit him back. And I kept hitting him til he stopped struggling and then I jumped up on his ribs, dropped on them with my knees. I heard them break. That's what got me to stop. I could hear his friends yelling about the cops coming."

He leaned back into the cushions and crossed his arms. 

Dave listened as his son spoke, his teeth clenching at that word. That [i]fucking[/i] word. In his younger days, Dave likely would’ve gone just as far as Mal had. Hell, these days he might have gone further. He had a brief mental flash bloody steel and shook the image away. 

“I get it,” he said when Mal had finished speaking. “Really, bubba, I do. I know how hard it is.” He paused. “Well, no. I don’t know, an’ that’s the truth. I’ll never go through the same things you do. That’s...That’s somethin’ I can’t take from you, and I’m so goddamn sorry I can’t.” 

He reached over and put his hand on Mal’s shoulder, squeezed it tight. “But you gotta keep control. No matter how much you wanna hurt ‘em worse, you can’t go too far. The same racist shit that makes ‘em treat you that way?” He looked over, found Mal’s gaze and held it. “That’ll haunt you later, too. Cops, courts, they don’t work in nobody’s favor, but especially yours. That’s why you gotta stay out of ‘em. An’ I know it’s hard, an’ I know that MacCready blood in you don’t take shit, and it don’t let you stand by when…” He shook his head. 

“You gotta be careful. That’s all. Promise me,” he said. “You don’t want to go too far one day and wind up with blood on your hands. It’ll never come off. I know.” 

Mal looked up at his dad and took a deep breath, then nodded. "That's pretty much what Mom said. I'll get the worse end of things with the cops and in the system because all they see is I got darker skin. I'm black. Don't matter if my Dad's white, my grandparents...I'll just be a black kid in their eyes."

He glanced away from Dave when he mentioned the blood. "Yeah...I mean, I didn't want to kill him of course but make him hurt. Make him feel scared. So he wouldn't mess with us or anyone else."

Mal sank back against the cushions of the sofa. "Mom was pretty upset."

“I’m sure,” Dave murmured. “Mothers don’t like seein’ their boys be violent. An’ your mama doesn’t have that MacCready fire you got from me. She’s a sweet one, always has been. Even if she does have steel in her spine.” He shot Mal a quick grin. His grin faded and he looked back down at his whiskey, and the calloused hands that held the glass. 

“I just don’t want you to go too far,” he said. “You don’t keep that temper, then someday...Someday you might look at yourself, an’ wonder who you are. Now. Promise me.” 

He looked back at his son, his steel-blue eyes searching Mal’s face. “Say the words.” 

Mal turned to look back at Dave and the memory of the expression on the big white boy with the skateboard he had beaten down came back. First the sneer then the tears and the change from bully to victim had excited something in Mal. It felt like justice but once it was over, he only felt angry and sick inside. 

The boy slowly nodded, giving into the trust he had in his father’s wisdom. “Yeah...I promise.”