A Knight in Central Park(58)

Garrett snorted. “What about him? Can he not do anything useful?”

“I don’t hunt,” Joe said.

“My father used to say, if you cannot kill it, then you shan’t eat it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Alexandra sighed.

Susan went about peeling potatoes she’d found in their bags.

Rebecca sniffled.

Joe’s head throbbed as he grabbed a thin woolen blanket and headed for his so-called bed.

A coyote howled in the distance.

The frogs croaked long into the night, through dinner and beyond, outlasting Susan and Garrett’s constant bickering.





Chapter Sixteen



Kids are wonderful, but I like mine barbecued.

—Bob Hope

An endless clattering woke him and it wasn’t until Joe opened his eyes that he realized it was his own teeth clicking together. The night air had gone from cold to freezing. The hard ground had left a kink in his neck.

He reached for his blanket until he realized he no longer had one. No wonder he was freezing. Through bloodshot eyes, he spotted Susan across the way, rolling his blanket and packing it with the rest of their things. Rebecca sat on a log, quietly eating a bowl of something hot and steaming, something that smelled a lot like stew. His stomach growled as he came to his feet.

“Good Morning, My Lord,” Susan said.

“Good Morning,” he replied, too tired to argue with the title. He’d been called worse. The fire was nearly out. He rubbed his hands over its meager warmth and noticed that the pot of stew was empty. Every muscle he possessed was stiff and sore. His mouth was dry. He drew his tongue over a throbbing molar; the same tooth that was to be looked at by the dentist today. The last thing he needed was a toothache. He rubbed his unshaven jaw. “Where’s Alexandra?” he asked no one in particular.

“She set off this morn,” Susan answered.

Joe looked about, saw only one horse. “Where did she go?”

“I know not, my lord.”

His jaw twitched. The thought of Alexandra leaving him in the wilderness with a bunch of kids did not sit well with him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You have no idea where she went?”

“Nay. What do you suggest we do, my lord?”

“Just call me Joe.”

Susan looked confused by his request.

“What is going on?” Garrett asked as he trampled through the brush, holding a long stick with two flat-bodied eels stabbed through the middle.

“Your sister has disappeared,” Joe said as he headed far into the woods to relieve himself. Within a few minutes, he returned. He grabbed his briefcase and placed it inside the bag with the blankets and utensils. “I’m going after her.”

Precious whinnied.

The idea of mounting the horse reminded him that the insides of his thighs were badly chaffed. His head pounded and he knew a strong cup of coffee was the only antidote for that. Tough luck, he told himself.

Garrett laid his stick on the smoldering fire. “She’ll be back,” he gritted out. “She would never have left us with the likes of you.”

“Well, it appears that she did.”

“Why would she leave us, her own flesh and blood, with an old, useless fart who knows not the difference between his fists and his feet?”

“Hey,” Joe said, turning to the boy, “don’t talk like that. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to respect your elders?”

The kid made a hissing sound, reminding him of the snake, before he added, “You are a fraud.”

“I never claimed to be anyone but Joe McFarland. You on the other hand, claim to be a real boy, but you are a brat.”

Garrett marched away and Joe turned to ready the saddle. A clod of dirt smacked him on the head. Joe whirled about, his eyes narrowing when he saw the slingshot in the boy’s hand. “I was going to let you come along,” Joe managed calmly, “but you just changed my mind.”

Joe felt a tug on the hem of his shirt. This time Rebecca was the culprit. Impatience clung to him like dust and dirt from two days on the road. “What is it?”

Her disgustingly dirty thumb was jammed into her mouth once again as she stared up at him with gigantic eyes. He looked to Susan for help.

“She wants to go with you.”

Joe grunted, ignoring the silent stares he was getting from all three of them as he went to the fire still smoldering within a circle of stones. He began kicking dirt on it. “This is just great,” he muttered. “Your sister drags me five-hundred years back in time.” He scratched his head. “To a place with warriors and castles and fleas; a place without hot water heaters, electricity, or dentists.” He rubbed his aching jaw. “When I find her I’m going to...”