The Bird Saviors by William J. Cobb Read Free Book Online
Authors: William J. Cobb
Tags: Science-Fiction
lover boy just showed up and if I'm guessing right, she's pissed he found her. Maybe she's just not that into him. Or he wants into her, and she wants out.
    The female must be an Amish schoolteacher, right? A looker?
    Fufu pulls a face. Nothing special. My guess is she's the kind of woman men like. You know. For their earthly pleasures.
    James is thinking of Fufu along similar lines. It's the devil on your shoulder in the motel zone. She wears a tangerine western shirt with pearl- snap buttons and saddle stitching, a gap between the snaps revealing a peek of lily- white bra cup. He guesses she's sometime past high school and somewhere before second divorce.
    Well, it's my job to keep the peace. Should I be worried about these two?
    Fufu shrugs. He smells like lowlife, you ask me. Like he'd beat a dog if it took to barking.
    You're saying maybe I should use some caution.
    Fufu smiles. A horse cop trying to break up a domestic? Maybe you should call in the Mounties.
    You watch my back, would you?
    She grins. I could do that. But I got to watch him first, she adds, indicating the sleeping baby.
Officer James takes it slowly, counting his paces down the warped wood planks to the stairway. He passes a room illuminated by the glow of a TV flickering against the drawn curtains, laughter and loud voices. At another room a woman holds a door open for a man carrying a baby in a car seat. An alarm honks from the used- car parking lot, no one nearby.
    Although Israel Franklin James is a man of the law, supposedly he's a descendant of Jesse James, hothead outlaw and one- time Missouri boy. He suspects it's just a family myth. Kin always get a little vague when asked for proof, citing some long- lost letter from Independence, Missouri, with Jesse's name on it. Israel figures Jesse wasn't much of a letter writer, what with the bank robbing and all. His hands must have been full, holding six- shooters and bags of cash.
    And he doesn't particularly like the name Israel. He's uncomfortable with the biblical, Red Sea tone of it. He isn't a Bible thumper and doesn't want to be confused with one. But a name is a gift one doesn't give back. Friends call him Elray. His sister named him that. She gave it a hillbilly twang, just to yank his chain.
    Elray hears bedlam before he reaches the top of the stairs. A man and woman both talking at once is what he'd say with his eyes closed, which they are in effect, just a pair of voices somewhere above and down the breezeway to the right. The woman raises hers loud and clear, calling for the comfort of the public sphere.
    You touch me I'll scream, she says.
    Nobody's touching nobody, the man says. Touching time is over and out.
    Possession is nine- tenths of the law, says the woman.
    Yeah, well, the other tenth is what matters, and it's my grandmother's ring. So turn it over already.
    You don't scare me.
    Give it back and let's just close this door and move on. That's what we're going to do here, less you got twenty grand cash to buy it straight out.
    You're crazy.
    Right. You don't have it, do you?
    I have a ring is what I have. A diamond ring you gave me. Fair and square.
    You got a broken heart and a rock that don't belong to you, is what you got.
    Jack Brown is breathing hard and pulls his asthma inhaler out and takes a breath as he watches the law approach.
    Come on, now, Brown says to the woman. You're making a spectacle of yourself.
    She sees Elray and her eyes stay on him as she speaks. Don't tell me to clean it up. You're the dirty one, not me.
    Brown holds her elbow. Great, he says. Now
    The female must be an Amish schoolteacher, right? A looker?
    Fufu pulls a face. Nothing special. My guess is she's the kind of woman men like. You know. For their earthly pleasures.
    James is thinking of Fufu along similar lines. It's the devil on your shoulder in the motel zone. She wears a tangerine western shirt with pearl- snap buttons and saddle stitching, a gap between the snaps revealing a peek of lily- white bra cup. He guesses she's sometime past high school and somewhere before second divorce.
    Well, it's my job to keep the peace. Should I be worried about these two?
    Fufu shrugs. He smells like lowlife, you ask me. Like he'd beat a dog if it took to barking.
    You're saying maybe I should use some caution.
    Fufu smiles. A horse cop trying to break up a domestic? Maybe you should call in the Mounties.
    You watch my back, would you?
    She grins. I could do that. But I got to watch him first, she adds, indicating the sleeping baby.
Officer James takes it slowly, counting his paces down the warped wood planks to the stairway. He passes a room illuminated by the glow of a TV flickering against the drawn curtains, laughter and loud voices. At another room a woman holds a door open for a man carrying a baby in a car seat. An alarm honks from the used- car parking lot, no one nearby.
    Although Israel Franklin James is a man of the law, supposedly he's a descendant of Jesse James, hothead outlaw and one- time Missouri boy. He suspects it's just a family myth. Kin always get a little vague when asked for proof, citing some long- lost letter from Independence, Missouri, with Jesse's name on it. Israel figures Jesse wasn't much of a letter writer, what with the bank robbing and all. His hands must have been full, holding six- shooters and bags of cash.
    And he doesn't particularly like the name Israel. He's uncomfortable with the biblical, Red Sea tone of it. He isn't a Bible thumper and doesn't want to be confused with one. But a name is a gift one doesn't give back. Friends call him Elray. His sister named him that. She gave it a hillbilly twang, just to yank his chain.
    Elray hears bedlam before he reaches the top of the stairs. A man and woman both talking at once is what he'd say with his eyes closed, which they are in effect, just a pair of voices somewhere above and down the breezeway to the right. The woman raises hers loud and clear, calling for the comfort of the public sphere.
    You touch me I'll scream, she says.
    Nobody's touching nobody, the man says. Touching time is over and out.
    Possession is nine- tenths of the law, says the woman.
    Yeah, well, the other tenth is what matters, and it's my grandmother's ring. So turn it over already.
    You don't scare me.
    Give it back and let's just close this door and move on. That's what we're going to do here, less you got twenty grand cash to buy it straight out.
    You're crazy.
    Right. You don't have it, do you?
    I have a ring is what I have. A diamond ring you gave me. Fair and square.
    You got a broken heart and a rock that don't belong to you, is what you got.
    Jack Brown is breathing hard and pulls his asthma inhaler out and takes a breath as he watches the law approach.
    Come on, now, Brown says to the woman. You're making a spectacle of yourself.
    She sees Elray and her eyes stay on him as she speaks. Don't tell me to clean it up. You're the dirty one, not me.
    Brown holds her elbow. Great, he says. Now
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