L Akers: Shoot Like a Girl

“I second Curt,” a voice called out. All eyes turned to Joe, a man so tall he caused a crick in the neck to look up at him. Skinny as a beanpole, he had a face that looked like thirty miles of bad road. He was new to the neighborhood, but Tucker was shocked to see him carrying water for Curt. He lived on the same street as Tucker and he’d thought they were friends.

Tucker would soon find out he didn’t know Joe at all.

“I third him,” another voice called out, followed by a chuckle.

“I second Kenny,” Kenny’s wife declared defiantly.

“I second Tucker,” a voice called out.

“Third Tucker.”

“Fourth Tucker.”

“Fifth Tucker…”

Tucker held his hands up, palms out. He sighed. He had an uneasy feeling where this was going. “Okay, that’s enough. We have three nominations. Let’s vote. Let’s see a show of hands for Kenny.”

Tucker stood up and looked out over the crowd. Other than his own, only two hands were raised; Kenny’s and his wife’s. Tucker felt bad for him. Although Kenny was overall a good guy, he was a nerdy pencil pusher with an irritating personality and a whiney voice. His yard was not a good indicator of someone who had it together, either.

Not leader material at all .

He moved on. “Okay, let’s see a show of hands for Curt.”

A slew of hands went up; they were the usual people he’d have expected, but only about half of those in attendance. Silently, he counted the hands. “I count twenty.”

Katie stood up. “Let’s see a show of hands for Tucker!”

All other hands in the crowd shot to the sky. Katie counted, while Tucker’s ears burned. “Twenty-seven. Tucker is our leader,” she said, smiling ear to ear in direct contrast to her husband, who scowled.

This is going to be nothing but trouble…

Curt stomped over to Tucker. “This is bullshit. Not everyone is even here. I don’t concede the vote to you.”

Tucker took one step, closing in the already too-small gap between himself and Curt. Katie pulled firmly at his T-shirt, trying to pull him down into his chair.

Curt backed away.

The crowd erupted in loud voices and mutterings. The temperature went up lending a feeling of doom and anticipated chaos. Tucker looked over Curt’s shoulder to see neighbor stand up to neighbor, fingers pointing, heads shaking, tempers rising. He heard his name repeated multiple times.

Tucker yelled, “Wait a damn minute!”

As one, the crowd quieted and turned to him.

“If y’all want Curt to lead you… go with him . No one is forcing you to be led by anyone—especially me. Hell, you don’t have to listen to either one of us.” He glared at the angry faces. “I didn’t ask to be leader. I really don’t want it… but if you want me in charge, I’ll do it. This isn’t forever. For all we know, the power could come back on tomorrow. But know this… I’m not collecting anyone’s food. It ain’t that bad yet. I’ll do the best I can in getting us organized like Jake talked about, but we’re all responsible for ourselves; no one is boss, as far as I’m concerned.”

Curt stepped off to one side and thumped his chest. “I’ve been managing people in a billion-dollar company for twenty years. I know how to get stuff done. Anyone with me… come to this side.”

The crowd that had voted for Curt stepped behind him.

The rest of them stepped behind Tucker.

Only two families remained; Kenny’s and Xander’s. Slowly, they stood up and ushered their own families behind Tucker, too.

The two leaders, one willing and one reluctant, stared across the grass at each other. A line had been drawn, and before it was over, it would be crossed.

“Please don’t leave me, Mr. GrayMan!” Puck yelled, through an angry face.

Grayson gently pulled his hand out of Puck’s tight grip. The boy was having himself a bit of a tantrum; the first that Grayson had seen from him. “Listen, kid. You’re going to have to man up. You’re going to be fine. I have to go check on Jenny now. She’s probably worried to death about you. I’ll get your things and see if I can persuade her to come over here—we’ll find room…” He looked around, realizing his house was quickly becoming crowded. “Somewhere. My daughter Graysie is going to sit with you.”

Puck slid his gaze over to Graysie, who huddled against the doorway, guilt pinching her face.

Grayson mouthed the word ‘smile’ at her.

She attempted a weak smile.

Grayson stood up. “You two are close in age. You’re going to be great friends,” he said, and then chuckled. His chuckle ended abruptly as he flinched at the pain of his sore tooth that had once again reared its ugly head.

Puck poked his lip out. “She hurt me.”

“Hey, I explained that to you already. She thought you were a bad guy. You need to forgive her… you are in her bed after all.”

Puck looked silly cuddled up under a Bob Marley blanket beneath a rainbow of murals adorning the walls. At his feet at the end of the bed lay Ozzie, who’d barely left the boy’s side.

“Look, kid. It’s only been one day. Give it another day or so and you’ll be up and about. When you’re feeling better, I’ll ask Graysie to show you Rickey’s treehouse. It’s huge! Nearly the size of this bedroom. You’ll love it. He won’t mind you using it while he gone. How’s that sound?”

Finally, Puck’s eyes lit up a bit; he smiled weakly. “Okay.”

Grayson turned to walk out, then abruptly stopped and turned back. “Is there anything else you want me to bring you from home? Besides clothes and your toothbrush?”

Puck screwed his mouth up in thought and looked at the ceiling before answering, “My colored pencils and crayons. And my paper. Please?”

“Done,” Grayson said. “But I’m going to have to take Ozzie for a bit. I need him with me. We’ll be back soon. Come on, Ozzie.”

Reluctantly, Ozzie slithered off the bed and walked toward the door. In almost human fashion, he paused and looked over his shoulder. First at Puck, and then at Graysie. He whined, as though giving Graysie instructions to take care of his new boy, and then quickly loped off to join Grayson.

Grayson and Jake hurriedly followed Ozzie down the dirt road, wanting to avoid the final tears that were sure to fall when the girls said goodbye to Elmer. The old man was leaving, and no amount of talk would change his mind. He couldn’t wait to get back to his bride, Edith, and would be gone by the time they returned.

They entered the clearing where Puck lived with Mama Dee.

Jake turned to Grayson with his eyebrows raised and gave a low whistle.

“Yeah, it’s a shithole,” Grayson answered, knowing exactly what Jake was thinking.

In the middle of the clearing was a shack of an old farmhouse; the small wooden porch leaned precariously to the right, struggling to stand. A rocking chair barely stood upright, missing one of the supportive rungs, it’s once-woven seat totally undone, leaving a hole big enough to fall through. The roof of the house was nearly bald, missing more shingles than it wore, and the glass of the few windows were foggy with age.

The place looked uninhabitable.

Grayson clenched his jaw in anger. These kids shouldn’t be living in a place like this; especially alone without Mama Dee . He’d have to persuade Jenny to come back with him. He wasn’t leaving her in this cesspool. He mumbled under his breath, “Tammy Faye Baker herself couldn’t put enough lipstick on this pig to make it look better.”