Trent Reedy - Divided We Fall

“Party Bridge,” Cal said after everyone had climbed out of the car. “Too bad we got no beer.”

“It’s twelve thirty in the afternoon,” Becca said. She watched JoBell duck under the I-beam to walk out on the bridge. “Hey, Cal, Eric. We better make sure the Mustang is okay after that chase. Help me check it out, okay?”

“Wha —?” Cal did his thing where he tilted his head to the side and screwed up his face with his left eye closed. “Wright’s the mechanic. He’s the one—”

Becca grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him over to the car. “I think we should check it.”

She winked at me and I mouthed the words thank you . I put my hands on top of the I-beam and vaulted over.

JoBell was leaning against the guardrail in the middle of the bridge with her arms folded. I sidestepped a hole in the pavement as I approached. The gurgle of the water rushing around the rocks below would cover our voices and give us some privacy.

“Oh yeah!” Cal called out from behind me. “Yeah, the three of us better check this car out to make sure it’s okay .”

“Would you shut up?” Becca hissed at him.

“Cal’s a pretty rotten actor,” I said when I stepped up to JoBell.

She finally looked up at me. “You’re a great actor. You fooled me.”

The tears were welling up in her eyes again. I couldn’t stand to see her cry. I slowly reached out for her hands, grateful when she took mine and rubbed them with her thumbs. Maybe I had a chance of keeping her. “I wanted to tell you right away. Only Governor Montaine said—”

She pulled her hands away. “I don’t give a damn what Governor Montaine said.”

“It’s not only that,” I said quickly. “I tried to tell you that first Monday before school, but I could hardly get a word in, and you were flashing my photo on your comm. And every time I see that photo, I remember that girl. Makes me want to—”

“That’s you in that photo?” JoBell stood up straight and backed away from me a couple steps. “I can’t believe… you were there. You’re one of them.”

“You have to understand. It’s not like—”

“Did you…” She waved her hand to fan her reddening face. “Did you… kill her?”

“JoBell, no.” I reached for her again but she backed away. Tears rolled down her face. What was she thinking? Did she hate me? Was I nothing more than one of the Butchers of Boise to her now? “Let me explain.”

“You’re one of the shooters?”

When she put it like that, it sounded like she was asking if I was a murderer.

“It’s not that simple. It’s not like I—”

“Just answer the question!” She held her hands tight to her sides.

A spark of hot anger lit up inside me. Why wouldn’t she listen to me? She was trying to lump me in with whoever had fired all those shots, with whoever had killed so many people. But then she sobbed more, and I knew I couldn’t be hard on her. She’d been so wrapped up in everything about the Battle of Boise. Learning that I was a part of it had to be a huge shock. I bit my lip.

“I’ll tell you everything,” I promised.

And I did. I told her the whole truth, from the moment Sergeant Meyers dropped the code word rattlesnake to that morning in shop class. All the details about the whole sorry mess.

“You have no idea what it’s been like. Seeing that girl in my nightmares. Hearing the shots in my dreams.” I wiped my eyes. “I’d do anything… anything to get that bullet back. I’m so sorry.”

Slowly, she stepped up close to me and pressed herself to my chest. “It wasn’t your fault, Danny. You shouldn’t have been called to that mission in the first place. Then it was an accident, and afterward, you even tried to help people.” I hugged her, and she slowly slid her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder. “You could have told me, you know. I would have understood.”

I smoothed her blond hair. “You were so mad at all us soldiers. I was afraid that if I told you the truth, you might…”

“What?” she asked, looking up into my eyes. “What?”

“I just love you so much,” I said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Danny,” she sighed. Then she put her hand to my cheek and we kissed. Nothing in the whole world, not home, not my friends, and if I was really honest with myself, not even church made me feel as good, as safe, as I felt with my JoBell. “This whole stupid situation with the Battle of Boise and everything? It’s going to pass.” She put her hand on my heart. “You and me? Forever.”

“Forever,” I said.

She smiled. Then she looked down. “Gosh, you’ve been going through hell with all this, and I’ve been a total bitch to you.”

“It’s not your fault.” I leaned so close to her that I could feel the heat of her lips on mine. “You’re passionate about stuff. That’s what I like about you.”

Then we kissed hot and deep for a moment before I swept her up in a big hug and swung her around. JoBell kicked her legs, threw her head back, and squealed. “Danny! Put me down! Put me down!”

“Hey, you two, can we stop pretending to fix the car now?” Becca called out.

I put JoBell gently back on the deck of Party Bridge and waved the others over. “Yeah, come on, guys.”

They walked out to join us, and Sweeney held out a shiny steel flask. “Anyone want a nip?”

JoBell snatched it from his hand and held it up to him for a second before taking a drink. As soon as she swallowed, she squinted her eyes, shook her head, and blew out through pursed lips. “Wow. What is that?”

“The finest cheap bourbon whiskey that I could get my cousin to buy for me.”

“You keep that on you all the time, do you?” Becca asked.

“Under my seat in my car.”

Becca grabbed the flask, took a drink, and then kind of coughed her words through the burn. “You’re so going to get busted.”

“Naw,” said Sweeney. “Sheriff Crow won’t bust us, and if he does, Danny can call the governor to get us out of it. By the way, Danny, I kind of told Becca and Cal everything.”

“It’s cool to know what I risked my life for,” Becca said. She took out her comm.

“Well, now that I know why we were on the run, are you sure we did the right thing?” JoBell asked. “The governor has kept everyone in the dark about what really happened. Who was shooting at who. Maybe if you explained it to the FBI, they’d back off and leave you alone.”

“Or maybe they wouldn’t,” said Sweeney. “Twenty-one people were hit. Only three guys in Danny’s squad were missing bullets after it was over, and then they were only down eight rounds. That’s a whole lot of bullets flying, and they’ll never figure out who was shooting. Why should Wright be the only one to pay?”

“Plus, they’re really pissed about this,” said Cal. “All these protestor people want someone to be punished.” JoBell lowered her eyes. Cal whipped a pebble into the river. “Danny didn’t do nothing wrong, but the president might want to lock him up just to calm people down.”

“That’s my point, though,” said JoBell. “They… A lot of people, even me a few minutes ago, don’t know that Danny didn’t do anything wrong. If we talked to the FBI or whoever, maybe they’d understand.”

“I think Cal might be right.” Becca looked up from her comm.

Cal had climbed up on the side rail, holding the vertical post in the truss. “What? Seriously?”

Becca held the comm so we could see the video of a riot the previous night in Oakland. Some people were flipping cars while others were looting or setting fire to stores. Most were shouting in the streets. There was no sound on the video, but when she tapped the screen to enlarge it, we could see a few of the signs the rioters were carrying. Among the usual signs that bitched about taxes or the military, a bunch of them read JUSTICE FOR THE IDAHO 12, and YOU’RE NEXT, IDAHO GUARD, or ARREST THE SOLDIERS NOW.