Stone Junction

VOLTA: That’s like blaming your legs for taking you to the whorehouse.

WILD B.: (laughing) ‘Silence is golden.’

VOLTA: Indeed. And decision is of the essence. That’s why I need yours on Daniel. And I do understand that you have some personal work planned, that you’re tired of teaching, that you’re old and cranky and have lost your edge, but Daniel may be the student you’ve been looking for.

WILD B.: Didn’t know I was looking. But all right, you’ve met him. How do you feel?

VOLTA: He’s got a ferocious mind, and, for one so young, not completely at the expense of subtlety. He strikes to the meat, but he’s impulsive, of course – youth again – yet remarkably self-possessed. He’s held himself together through some hideous blows, and I think––

WILD B.: (cutting him off) Feel. How do you feel about him?

VOLTA: (after a long pause) Powerfully attracted; powerfully repelled.

WILD B.: Ah, so that’s what got your attention.

VOLTA: On further consideration, you may be the worst choice imaginable.

WILD B.: Are you appealing to my pride or perversity now?

VOLTA: I wasn’t aware you made the distinction.

WILD B.: (laughing) Sold. I’ll take him. But no more than eighteen months, and I get to go off to the desert in peace. Plus you owe me a serious favor.

VOLTA: What’s that now? About three hundred and seven?

WILD B.: At least.

VOLTA: The Wyatt Ranch? Two weeks?

WILD B.: I’ll be there.

Daniel was arrested an hour after he officially regained consciousness. Alexander Kreef, an attorney specializing in juvenile law, arrived a few minutes later with a handful of writs and injunctions. He was accompanied by Daniel’s physician, furious his patient had been disturbed without his approval.

The dour lieutenant attempting to question Daniel was not impressed. ‘Excuse me all to shit,’ he bowed to Dr Tobin, then turned to Alexander Kreef and said with nasty delight, ‘The kid ain’t retained attorney yet – just come to.’

Alexander Kreef smiled pleasantly. ‘I was hired by Mr and Mrs Wyatt, his aunt and uncle, and am entered as attorney of record.’ He handed an eight-pound pile of papers to the lieutenant, who looked at them and dropped them on the floor.

Alexander Kreef kept smiling: ‘You ask my client one more question and I’ll bust your ass so hard you’ll shit through your ears. No, on second thought, ask away; we get more dismissals on procedural errors than airtight alibis.’

‘Fuck you.’ The lieutenant glared at Alexander Kreef, then Daniel, but put his microcassette recorder away.

‘Uh-uh,’ Alexander chided, motioning for the recorder. ‘Inadmissible without due counsel.’

‘Wow. Gee, no, really? Not that it matters, Counselor – seems he don’t remember shit. I mean it’s pretty fucking hard to remember something as quiet as an explosion that blew your momma into memories and bone chips.’

‘You cold prick,’ Alexander hissed, but it was lost in Dr Tobin’s outraged howl: ‘Good God, Lieutenant! This young man has suffered profound cerebral trauma, been in a coma for nine weeks, and you expect him to answer questions? Did it ever enter your feeble mind that the boy might have some form of amnesia common to severe head injuries – total, partial, or conditional?’

‘I’m not a physician,’ Alexander said, ‘but total seems likely in this case.’

‘Yeah, I bet. Probably won’t even remember if he was the alleged Mrs Wyatt’s son, or who his alleged father might be.’ Course with that paper factory they were running, probably hard to keep all the identities straight. Yeah, fucking hard to remember anything.’ The lieutenant looked at Daniel. ‘Ain’t that right, kid?’

‘I don’t remember you,’ Daniel said, then shut his eyes.

Daniel’s hearing was held on December 7. The serious charges were dropped in exchange for his mitigated nolo contendere to the lesser counts. He was placed in the guardianship of his aunt and uncle until he was seventeen, at which time, assuming no further arrests, his record would be sealed. Some red tape remained, but Alexander Kreef turned it into Christmas ribbon, and on December 21 Daniel was released. He left that afternoon with Matilda and Owen Wyatt for a cattle ranch in the coastal hills, roughly fifty miles north of the Four Deuces.

The Wyatts were in their mid-fifties, a happy, vigorous couple who took great pleasure in their life on the ranch. The Wyatts owned 1400 acres, but had always run fewer cattle than the carrying capacity allowed. While a struggle at first, their operation was now considered a model of ecological intelligence.

Riding north with the Wyatts Daniel felt tentative and vaguely numb, though they were easy company. He learned that they’d known Volta for fifteen years, from the time he’d helped end a serious rustling problem that had plagued them.

‘So you’re repaying a favor?’ Daniel inquired, curious why they’d gotten involved.

‘Hell no,’ Owen told him, ‘we’re members of the Alliance.’

Daniel found that difficult to believe. ‘So the cattle are a front?’

‘Daniel,’ Tilly explained, ‘you don’t have to be illegal to be an outlaw.’