Garnet

Adelaide Runner’s cow died the morning the stranger first came to town. 

It had been ailing for weeks and had been unable to give over any milk. Adelaide had known for some time that the cow would have to be put out of its misery, yet she could not help putting off her part in such an event. She hoped every morning that the thing had taken things into its control and simply died in its sleep. 

As Adelaide stood over the cold and rigid corpse of her last heifer, swatting away the worst of the summer dust and flies, she considered how best to remove the cow from its stall. Could she entreat some neighbours to help her drag it away?

“Addy!”

The voice of her younger sister Daisy broke Adelaide’s concentration, and she brought a hand to her eyes, shielding them from the blinding sun, in order to take in the shape of her sister as she ran out of the light and into the cool shade of the barn. Daisy was out of breath and stooped for a moment with her hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath amidst a fit of dry coughing. 

“What’s got you flying like a dervish, girl?” Adelaide scowled at her sister, who managed to straighten up, wiping her sweaty forehead with dirty hands. 

“You’ll never guess. Not ever.”

Adelaide gently kicked at one of the cow’s prostrate legs, testing the stiffness that had long since settled in the limbs. “I don’t intend to waste my time today by doing so. I’ve you’ve something to say, best to do so now.”

“There’s a man walked into town this morning.”

Adelaide’s eyes tore themselves from her dead animal and found Daisy’s, where they searched the brown eyes for any sign of mischief or mockery. 

“Truly?” Adelaide was skeptical. No one came to Garnet anymore, especially not walking under their own steam. 

“True as blue,” Daisy assured her, eyes wide and stupidly honest. “Just came ambling in all haggard-like. Heard tell that he was holding his ribs like one might-a been busted.”

“Heard it from who?”

“Mabel. She was opening up the store and saw him come in. She told me so when I stopped by to pick up some coal.”

“Men don’t just walk into Garnet,” Adelaide said aloud this time. 

Daisy just smiled her simple and stupid grin, all crooked teeth, her face bearing a clear expression of excitement. Adelaide, who at twenty-five was too old for such girlish behaviour, sighed in exasperation at her sibling’s antics. 

“If you’ve the wind to run about telling tales, how bout you run over next door to Keeper’s and ask if we might borrow the small tractor to get Bess here from her stall?”

“But Addy,” Daisy whined, “I want to go to town! I want to see him!”

“And we will,” Adelaide replied tartly. “But let’s get this blasted creature out of the barn in the hopes that these blasted flies will follow. She accentuated her words with another slap at the insects who were beginning to swarm the cow. One lit on her bare arm, and the flesh there began to sting painfully. Adelaide slapped at it quickly, brushing off the stain of blood that remained on the side of her cotton shirt. 

Daisy pouted, looking down at the cow between them angrily. 

“Girl, get you gone!” Adelaide’s temper was up. It was too hot to argue, and though she would never admit it, she wanted to see the stranger too. 

Daisy stuck out her tongue and kicked the poor beast in its sunken side. A tumour there burst, sending forth a dark and pulpy liquid that sloshed tangibly unto the soiled straw beneath. She turned quickly before Adelaide could yell again and took off back into the dust and sun. 

“A man has come to Garnet,” Adelaide whispered into the still barn, disturbed only by the constant low and heavy buzzing of the flies.

***

By the time Adelaide and Daisy had made their way to town, the stranger had been moved to the old schoolhouse. Though far from a large building, the school was the only place in Garnet that could afford enough seating and space for the crowd of curious onlookers gathered at the news of a visitor. Adelaide pushed her way through with Daisy at her heels. The townsfolk might have muttered as Adelaide Runner elbowed her way through them, but not one dared raise their voice higher than an outraged whisper or hiss. Adelaide was a survivor, and more importantly, she was clean. Susan Gunner bared what teeth remained in her mouth as Addy passed her, and a red flush crept into her pocked and mealy cheeks. 

The sheriff stood at the front of the room, gun proudly on display in a hip holster that suggested wear and familiarity of use. The stranger sat in a chair before the crowd, eyes fixed anxiously on the sheriff’s hand that hovered over the gun’s grip. Adelaide took in his hair, black and thick, and the dark stubble on his cheeks. He was thin, and the worn boots on his feet suggested long wanderings, and he had the lost and haunted look of someone who had been too long away from people and too long in the out. His hands were bound behind the chair he had been dumped into. 

“What do they call you?” The sheriff’s voice was low and steady, ignoring the pulsing energy of the gathering crowd.

“Ben,” the man said quietly, gaze darting from the gun to the crowd and then back again. “Ben Jones.”

“What kind of a name is Jones?” The question was whispered in the crowd, its speaker unknown, though the others took up the thought in small murmurs.

“Quiet,” growled the sheriff. “How come you make your way to Garnet?”

The man, Ben, licked his dry and cracked lips, and Adelaide felt the person next to her shudder. She shouldered her neighbour squarely and glared down at them. 

“Be still,” she grunted. The shuddered obeyed. 

“I’ve been walking for weeks, maybe months. I don’t know how long I’ve been out there. I was with others, but they ain’t with me no more. The sand took ‘em.”

Nods and murmurs of understanding. The sands were quick, and they were deadly. Their faint glow reached the hills of Garnet when the skies were clear, the luminescent green enough to light your path even in the deepest reaches of the night. 

The sheriff stood, thinking. The thick, beefy arms crossed themselves before an ample chest, and the voice growled. “How come you ain’t got worse than a hurt rib? Are you clean everywhere?”

“There’s no mark on me,” Ben said quickly, glancing into the crowd, eyes searching. “I ain’t got the sickness, but I can see that some of you good folk are suffering. I’ve got some learning. Let me tend the sick ‘uns.”

“He can tend to me,” came a loud and boisterous voice from the back of the room. A few brave or possibly hysterical members of the crowd giggled and guffawed before a sharp look from the sheriff shut them up. 

“You close your mouth Lou Digger,” the sheriff called. “Fore I knock out what’s left of your teeth.”

More laughter at this. Quieter. Crueller. 

The sheriff crouched down before the man and removed the pair of sunglasses that hid one blue eye and one empty socket that oozed thick green pus. The man looked away quickly and seemed to be fighting the urge to retch. 

“We don’t need men like you coming in here telling us what needs doin’,” the sheriff said gently, eye fixed on the man’s sallow face. “You’ve come here, and as you can see, there ain’t any of your kind here.”

A different kind of murmur and energy passed through the crowd, and Adelaide felt the hunger that followed it. It had been a long time since a man had walked into Garnet. 

“Did you think we’d welcome you and let you wander about amongst the good people here? Your kind is a menace. Your kind is danger, and death, and bleeding.” The sheriff’s low voice was steady and quiet as she leaned in closer to the bound man. “Keeper?”

Emily Keeper stepped forward from the crowd, her daughter Gail close to her side. Emily stood strong and tall, and although Gail’s bald head was covered in the marks of her sickness, she did not falter at her mother’s side. 

“Bring this man that he might be kept with the others. He seems clean though, mind you, so be careful not to put him with the marked stock.” The sheriff spoke without taking her gaze from the trembling man. 

Emily nodded and came forward, reaching the man in a few strides and bending to unbind him from the chair. He did not fight her as he rose though he winced at the pain in his side. Emily Keeper’s family had been charged with the town’s stock for years, and she moved Ben forward with practiced ease. 

The crowd parted for them as Emily and her charge approached, Gail trailing close behind. The excitement and whispers in the crowd did not dissipate as the man was lead from the room and seemed only to grow stronger as he was finally brought back outside. 

“Shut it,” warned the sheriff in a drawl. She placed her dark sunglasses back on her face and seemed to scan the crowd.  “Adelaide Runner? You here?”

Adelaide stepped forward, though a brave and unknown member of the crowd scratched her viciously on the arm as she did. The offender hid themselves well, and the guilty fingers drew back quickly into the safety of the mob. 

“You still clean, girl?” The sheriff’s tone was easy, all business. 

“I am,” Adelaide replied. “Had a dead cow this morning, but it don’t seem to have affected me none.”

The sheriff nodded, pleased. 

“Well, seems to be about your turn then. Make your way down to Keeper’s tomorrow. She can help you through the ordeal.”

Daisy was at Adelaide’s side then, gripping her hand. A huge grin adorned the younger girl’s face, and her eyes shone brightly from behind deep and dark circles. 

“A baby in the house!” Daisy’s voice was a happy squeal. “Finally, our turn to have a baby in the house!”

“You can be happy. Ain’t you that’ll have to carry and bear it.” Adelaide felt a little annoyed but understood. She was clean, and so was the stranger. These occurrences were becoming rarer and rarer. 

It was her turn. 

She turned then, still holding Daisy’s hand, and faced the sea of women before her, cramped into the small and stifling schoolhouse. Some were clean, like Adelaide. Others bore the rotting and putrid marks of the sickness. With any luck, Adelaide would bear a girl, a clean girl, who could be brought up in Garnet and who could work with the next generation to keep the town running. 

As Adelaide and her sister made their way to Keeper’s farm, the older girl thought once more of her dead cow and reminded herself to ask again about borrowing the small tractor.