“Hodges said that he has help on this one. He said that if I say no, it won’t just be us against him.”
“Did he say what kind of help?”
“Nope. But, it could be the Feds.”
“Or the Governor,” Dranko added.
“Or, he’s just a damned blowhard,” Cooper cursed. He kicked a clump of forest duff in frustration, “So, Miles. You gonna give me up or not? I need to know?”
“I don’t know, Cooper.” He looked him with imploring eyes. “I’m sorry. I think I should tell everyone what happened and make it a group decision.”
“That’s not good enough,” Cooper’s eyes blazed.
“What do you mean?”
“What are you going to recommend? What you say will matter a lot.”
Miles looked down at the ground for a moment, and then looked up. The face that greeted Cooper was a tortured one, “I don’t know, Cooper.” Their eyes caught for a moment before he turned and left.
“Coward,” Cooper whispered in rage. He started to walk away, but Dranko grabbed him by the arm.
“Ease up, brother. He barely knows you. It’s a big decision on shoulders that aren’t used to it.”
He looked up at his friend, relaxing a degree, “You’re probably right. But, it still sucks.”
“That it does, brother.”
“I don’t want to end up on the run again. We just got here.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Now, I have to get ready.”
“For what?”
“I have to do what I hate the most.”
Cooper’s brows furrowed deeper, “What?”
“One, make a speech so these good people don’t throw you out like the morning trash and two is something even worse.” A wry smile crept onto his face, “To accomplish this grandiose feat, I also have to say something nice about you.”
That brought a smile to Cooper. Then, the two men walked to where the group was assembling.
Miles climbed onto a hood of one of the pickup trucks and waved his arms to quiet the group gathered around him. Cooper estimated it was close to a hundred people, mostly men. Miles licked his dry lips and then rubbed his hands down the sides of his pant legs. Nervous. Slowly, the talking faded to whispers and then to silence.
“I got a lot to say, so hear me out,” Miles began, his voice raspy. “First, the good news. Hodges agreed to our demands, but…” Miles was drowned out by hearty applause. He waved his arms to quiet them.
Finally, a robust voice bellowed out from the crowd, “What’s the condition?”
“He wants Cooper Adams.”
“Who?”
“The man,” Miles said, pointing at Cooper, “who helped us plan this thing in the first place.”
“I thought his name was CJ,” a young woman queried, confused.
“Wait, Cooper Adams? Isn’t that the guy that has everyone squawking about how Brushfire Plague started?” This time it was Frank, who was bemused by the thought.
The group devolved into a chaotic frenzy of shouted questions and loud assertions. Mile’s efforts to calm everything down failed. He turned to Cooper, helpless. As Cooper ascended the hood of the pickup, the yard fell silent.
“I’ll answer all your questions. Yes, I’m Cooper Adams. I’m the guy that told the truth about how the Brushfire Plague started.”
Several people shouted out in derisive mockery and yelled obscenities.
Cooper locked eyes with one of the offenders, “Look. I wish it wasn’t true. But, it is. You can either believe the facts. The facts I revealed to everyone. Or, you can believe the government that is denouncing me. But, I’ll just ask you one question: what did I have to gain by making it all up?” Cooper’s eyes burned with the intensity born of conviction and only available to the zealot or the truth teller. The other man wilted. My father always said a sincere man is a powerful man. No one else answered his question.
A raised hand beckoned for his attention and he pointed at a short man who was made shorter because he was flanked by two tall, lanky men, “Let’s put that aside for a moment. Why’d you introduce yourself as CJ?”
“My middle name is James, so it’s true they are my initials. Why’d I use them? Frankly, I was hoping to stay hidden here. Telling the truth to the world about Brushfire Plague is what forced me, and my son, from our home.” Gain the sympathy of a hostile crowd whenever you can, his father had advised. Cooper pointed down at Jake and the group paused a moment, taking him in.
“So, the question before us is whether we hand Cooper over to Hodges or we tell Hodges to pound salt,” Miles said. “Personally, I think we tell Hodges to go take a bath in the Clackamas River.”
“C’mon, Miles. You can’t be serious?” It was Rusty, one of the men who had ridden with them just a short time ago to the meeting with Hodges.
“And?” Miles retorted.
Rusty looked up at Cooper, “No offense, man. But, he’s not from around here. You want us to risk a war with Hodges to protect one man? And a stranger at that?” Cooper struggled to keep his face calm. He knew lashing out at the man for saying what many must also be thinking would be a mistake. Silence hung in the air after Rusty finished talking. Cooper saw a dozen or so heads nodding in agreement. Less than I would have thought.
“Hell, I don’t like that Hodges is in cahoots with the government in trying to get their hands on Cooper,” Frank took a step forward as he began. People moved away to give him space. More importantly, people are leaning in, listening to him. His father had told him often: If you want to know who the leader is within a group, watch who gets listened to. “We are smart people here in Estacada. We know if the government says it’s bad, it must be good. If they want Cooper, it tells me we should protect him.” Cooper was impressed with the man’s oratory; his words shifted from flattery to indignation effortlessly. A number appeared to agree. Cooper noted that they were the better armed in the group.
A large man who Cooper didn’t know raised and then threw his arms down in dismissal, “C’mon, Frank. That’s a bunch of hogwash. The government wanted to kill Osama bin Laden. You sayin’ that means it was a bad idea?”
“The military wanted and got bin Laden, not the government. Why are you changing subjects, anyway,” Frank shot back, undeterred.
That brought the house down in another furious and chaotic round of shouting, insults, recriminations, and near fistfights. Cooper wanted to drop off of the hood of the pickup. He really wanted to drop off the edge of the world. Why the hell did I tell the world what I learned? What good has come of it?
The rapping of a wooden cane against a metal car body roused him from his thoughts. He knew before looking that Lily Stott was going to make a speech.
“Listen here,” the group quickly fell silent. “You listenin’?” Lily’s playful question, delivered coyly, caused a ripple of laughter.
She made a deliberately pained effort to climb onto the hood of a Buick sedan parked in the yard. People next to her reached out to help her, but she rebuffed them. Her progress was painstakingly slow as she crawled onto the hood, before slowly standing awkwardly upon it. Talk about garnering sympathy, Cooper thought and almost started laughing.
“First, you know what I said about Cooper already. I won’t repeat it. Second, you got it all wrong.” She drew out the word ‘all’ in an elongated Southern drawl. “This ain’t about Cooper. It’s about us.” She paused and took a deep breath. Cooper suspected on purpose.