Read Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) Online

Authors: Guy Stanton III

Tags: #Romance Thriller

Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) (2 page)

BOOK: Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good)
7.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

My mother had always been taken by the Old Testament hero and so she had named me for him, Caleb Longtree. It was a lot to live up to and I had tried, but I didn’t think that I had managed to measure up in God’s eyes the way that the original Caleb had. If I had, surely my life would have been more blessed like his had been? My wife had died giving birth to my firstborn son. My son had died in a war that no one even cared of or knew anything about. My daughter-in-law was a silly drunken sort of a woman I could not stand to be around and my granddaughter was lost in the rebelliousness of the ways of the world. Surely in comparison to the biblical Caleb I was cursed where he had been blessed.

I had spent all my days seeking to live by honor and yet at sixty four years of age I was left without any joy to call my own. What had the purpose of it all been? I was feeling sorry for myself again, which was wrong, as I had plenty to be grateful for, but in this moment it was hard to remember those things, when the torment of what I didn’t have was so great.

Would it ever get better or would the long slide downhill just continue?

There didn’t seem to be any answer forthcoming from beyond the heavens and so I sat there in a bitter sort of solitude missing out on the beauty of the unfolding spring morning. Try as I might I could not find anything with which to motivate myself that things would ever get better. Realizing the depth of my depression I sank off my rocky seat onto my knees, as my hands folded together. My lips fumbled in a prayer, in search of release from the oppression that I felt that I was under.

I was in the midst of that tearful prayer, when an alien noise made its rude appearance into the tranquillness of the morning songbird’s lullaby. My hand reached into my coat pocket and brought out the screeching modern nuisance that was my cell phone. I thought I had left it back at the cabin, but apparently I was not so fortunate. I held it for a moment as a savage urge almost overwhelmed me to bash the contrary device off of a rock.

I sighed and flipped it open, and saw that the call was from Ted.

“Yes?”

“I disturbed your morning vigil didn’t I? Sorry about that! You didn’t forget about picking up my grandson today though, did you?”

I grimaced, because I had forgotten, yet one more sign that I was getting old.

“I’m on my way.”

The voice on the other side chuckled, but didn’t say anything and I ended the call with a snap of the phone. I swiftly pocketed the Bible and started making my way back down to my pickup that was about a mile off from me.

Ted Rogerson was one of the few people I had bothered to cultivate a friendship with. He, like me, was not held in high regard by those of my people. I was something of a maverick to my people. They didn’t understand me, but they respected me. Ted they disliked mainly because of his profession. He was an archaeologist and his point of interest in these parts was the study of the first dwellers of the continent, which may not of been strictly Native American in origin, as was commonly acknowledged by all in academia.

His research and study bothered a great many among the native tribes in the area, as for me I could not have cared less as to who was here first. In the Bible that I read it stated that all of mankind had started with two people, so what did it matter which descendents settled here and there first?

Only the problem was that it did matter to a lot of people. Such research threatened the continued income gained by Native Americans from casinos, not to mention free perks like free college and tax leniencies. It was a big deal to those who depended on such incomes, but I had no stake in that game, as I had never taken a paycheck for being a Native American.

I was proud of my heritage and grateful to live where I did. Taking payment for being something that I already was far and above anything money could have ever bought would’ve only cheapened the traditions of my forefathers. My forefathers would never have understood the idea of being paid for what you were, as a point of ancestry, out of the sense of some past wrongdoing on somebody else’s part long since dead. They would have seen it simply like this, ‘you lived, you fought, and you died, hoping for a good life somewhere in between’.

My life hadn’t been so great, but it wasn’t over yet either. With that welcome shot of enthusiasm about the future I increased my pace to reach the truck. As I swung around trees and skipped over logs I reveled in the fact, that although I may not remember as much as I was starting to forget, I at least still had my health and the ability to do something dangerous.

Ted’s grandson’s visit meant a lot to him and I mentally chastised myself for forgetting about it since Ted had talked of little else in the past two weeks. Ted couldn’t drive legally anymore due to a heart condition and so I pretty much chauffeured him around and fetched supplies for him.

The old Dodge pickup fired to life and I started beating my way back down the mountain, headed towards the town that was a good many miles away. I would be late, a thing I did not like in the least. Punctuality was one of my core beliefs and the thought of failing my own standard had me pressing my foot down on the throttle more than it was healthy to do so on the rough path, for either me or the truck.

 

I pulled up at the bus stop. The bus had already left and I saw no sign of the grandson. I got out and went into the café beside the bus stop.

Patricia Stearns the café owner saw me from behind the counter and smiled, “I didn’t expect to see you today Caleb.”

I shrugged, “Apparently I forgot I was to be here too. Did you by chance see anyone get off the bus? I’m supposed to pick up Ted’s grandson, who’s come to visit.”

She nodded, “Yes I did see a man get off, but he didn’t come in here. I think he headed further uptown over towards the stables maybe.”

“Thanks Patty.”

I turned to go, when she called my name out softly and I already knew from the tone of her voice that something must be wrong. I turned back my looked expectant of bad news.

“Deshavi’s in town. She got in last night. I thought you might like to know.”

“Thank you again Patty.”

I pushed back through the door and headed for the stables. Confrontation was in the air.

 

As I drew closer to the corral I could see a bunch of people were gathered at the corral no doubt eager to ride on a fine spring day in the mountains. My eyes singled one figure out from the rest. All I knew about Ted’s grandson was that he had recently quit being a Navy Seal. Armed with that knowledge it was easy to pick him out the crowd of people gathered around the corral area, who were mostly tourists come to see the Native American way of life for themselves.

The grandson stood out like a wolf among sheep and my eyes appreciated the subtleties of character that radiated out from him. He was big like me, and it wasn’t a beefed up on steroids combined with crazy workouts big either. It was a natural bigness with strength to go along with it. Even relaxed against the corral post he looked coiled and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. He was ready for action, which bespoke of a long-term exposure to danger.

It was hard to relax after a life like that, I should know, as I’d lived like that myself once upon a time. You truly never do get over the feeling of needing to be vigilant, in order to avoid a bullet in the back. In some ways I thought he was already aware of me, if the supple tensing across his shoulders was to be interpreted right. I had to say I liked what I saw in this grandson of Ted’s. This man was a warrior. It had been some time since I’d truly seen another one of my own kind.

I stepped up to the corral fencing and slowly his gaze turned to study me. There was no contempt in his eyes in regard to my evident age and unlikelihood of me being a threat to his more ebullient youth. He measured me indepthly with his eyes and I had to admit to myself that I had not expected to receive such a compliment today. He looked away, but it wasn’t a dismissal or sign of disrespect. I rather got the idea that he was content to share his space with me, until I proved threatening. This was I had to admit rather fun, what a head thinker he was!

It was an old game that I hadn’t played in a long time. Something attracted his gaze and all his focus left me. Curiosity drove me to see what had so captured his attention. But of course it was my granddaughter, Deshavi. I might have known, the day had been unraveling rather oddly and now this was yet one more surprise to add to the growing list.

I glanced back at the young warrior, only to see him locked into a course that could only see him into ship wrecked disaster. It was reminiscent of somebody accelerating into a sharp curve with no guard rails and a sudden flat tire. Did I warn him or let him find out for himself how treacherous the waters could be?

His hand visibly tightened on the railing and as a whole his body seemed to be seized by some powerful urge. My eyes flickered back over to Deshavi and I could’ve beaten her. It was bad enough how inviting she made herself look with the clothes that she wore, but this was unseemly, as it was distasteful for an unmarried girl to act toward a stranger. To start, her jeans looked as if they’d been poured onto her legs. In the process of saddling her mount she’d dropped something clumsily, only Deshavi wasn’t clumsy by nature at all. She had bent completely over directly in front of Ted’s grandson and it was a siren’s call to outright for any red blooded man to ignore.

Her wantonness toward a complete stranger only underscored how far she’d strayed from the values that I had tried to teach and instill in her. A word of warning was required.

“You do know that she’s playing you?” Deshavi had since straightened back up and the man’s eyes came back to mine.

His gaze measured me once again thoughtfully. “And how’s that?”

“You wouldn’t be her first or likely her last.”

“You know her?”

“She’s my granddaughter, other than that connection I’m not sure I can say anything, as to whether I know her or not.”

A dark red flush stung the man’s well tanned features and I was glad to see it, even as I was astounded by his quickly spoken words.

“I have to apologize. I was….I was….”

“Taken in by the sight of my granddaughter’s backside?” I filled in for him.

His face got redder, “Yes.” He admitted truthfully.

Incredibly it occurred to me that this man did not know how rare he was. He was apologizing and obviously embarrassed upon being confronted by a close family member on a matter that most men would have laughed or joked about, considering it to be a free look and nothing they should feel guilty about. An understandable joke among men if you will, but that was not how this man had reacted to being caught.

“You must have an exceptional mother.” I said knowingly.

His face only got redder at the mention of his mother. “What makes you say that?”

“Someone taught you right from wrong at some point, enough so that even after years of exposure to I imagine all sorts of sites you still have the grace to be embarrassed when caught dwelling on something your eyes should’ve skipped over.”

He looked away perhaps seeing some of those sites of his own again, “You’re right I do have a great mother.”

His expression turned rueful, “And she did teach me better than this.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, there’s a fine line between looking too much versus being unable to ignore the beauty of what God meant to be noticed by a male.”

His expression grew puzzled, “I’m not sure I quite understand you?”

I smiled, “That makes two of us.”

I held out my hand, “Caleb Longtree and if I don’t miss my guess your Trent Rogerson?”

He nodded, even as he confirmed, “You’re the man that’s to take me to my grandfather?”

“One and the same.” I affirmed, as we shook hands.

His handshake was just one more thing I was growing to like about this man.

“Are we heading out now?” He asked.

“Let’s eat lunch first at that café by the bus stop. If you don’t mind I’m going to stay here for a moment, as I need to speak to my granddaughter about something.”

He only to quickly picked up the single bag he had brought with him and headed out toward the café.

An idea had begun to emerge in my consciousness. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad one, but some instinct bade me go through with it. I turned back to Deshavi. She walked around the back end of the horse her eyes in search of the source of her flirtatious interest. She found me instead. Her cheeks pinked and she made to turn to go back around the horse, but I motioned for her to come and reluctantly she obeyed.

She no doubt expected another sermon, which is why I think it was a surprise to her when all I said was, “You’re going to eat lunch with us before we leave.”

“Who’s us?” She asked puzzled.

“Me and the man, whom you’ve acted little better in front of, than a broodmare in estrus would behave with a stallion around.”

Deshavi’s face turned beet red and it was a relief to see that shame was an emotion that could still be evoked in her.

“Tie your horse off and come.”

She just stood there and for a moment it looked like she was about to cry.

I sighed and gentled my tone down some. “Go tie your horse off Deshavi.”

She turned and did as I said and then slipped through the fence to walk beside me toward the café. She kept side glancing at me and then finally she stopped and so did I.

“Why? If you disapprove of me so much, then why this? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“No Deshavi, you know I wouldn’t do that, perhaps as a child but not now. You’re an adult and you make your own decisions, even as you have to live with them.”

“Then why are you making me do this?” She exclaimed.

I decided to give her the simple truth, “Because for once Deshavi you’ve actually picked out a man with real substance to him. I wouldn’t mind seeing you matched up with him at all.”

Her face reflected genuine shock, as her mouth fell open.

I gently pushed up on her chin closing her mouth, as with a slight smile I started out for the café again. She caught up and I could still see that she was trying to figure out my sudden role reversal.

BOOK: Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good)
7.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Stella Bain by Anita Shreve
Mad Lizard Mambo by Rhys Ford
The Black Tower by Steven Montano
Letters From Al by Pieper, Kathleen
By the Mountain Bound by Elizabeth Bear