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Jenny
She found Edie feeding the chickens, lost in thought, and with every swing of her arm, thousands of tiny grains scattered across the coop, sending beaks into a pecking frenzy. Seeming oblivious to everything apart from her task, Edie stared at the ground; her body language hinted at fatigue, her eyes said sad, and once again the word that sprang into Jenny’s mind was lost.
The backdrop to the scene, barren fields rolling into the distance still coated in fine white mist, was accompanied by a soundtrack. A cacophony of animal noises and the chug-chug-chug of Silvestre’s tractor as he drove around the farm, the engine noise changing to tickover when he stopped to throw debris left from the storm into his trailer. Even at 7am you could tell it was going to be a glorious day. Not quite an Indian summer but the sky was clear and blue, the sun not yet warm enough to heat her face as she approached Edie. Holding two mugs of coffee, she went past Joe and Ace, who were sitting on the back of Silvestre’s pickup. Her ex with his loaded shotgun on his lap looked like an old-time gunslinger, smoking, seething, and watching for drones.
The evening before, when he’d spotted one hovering above the yard, Joe had seen red and for an almost sixty-two-year-old had surprised her with how quickly he leapt to his feet then sprinted down the stairs, taking what looked like three at a time while she gave chase. The language was ripe, the air was purple as he cursed and no matter how much she pleaded with him not to, there was no way she or anyone would have been able to stop him from unlocking the gun cupboard and yanking out his shotgun. Even as he opened the separate box that held the ammunition, cartridges that sprayed hundreds of pellets in one shot, he was a man possessed once he’d loaded his rifle, sprinted to the kitchen door and within seconds, was in the yard and taking aim.
He took the drone out in one shot.
By the time the rest of the family, two four-by-fours containing panicked security men and then Silvestre in his slippers arrived, the dogs were circling what was left of the drone as it lay smashed to pieces on the cobbles of the yard. Nobody had spoken as Joe made sure it was well and truly out of action by pulverising it with the butt of his rifle.
Never had Jenny seen Joe like that. His face ashen, his eyes wild with rage.
‘This is my property, and nobody is invading it. You got me?’ He had turned to speak to Hervé, pointing, rage reverberating on every word. ‘You go down there right now and tell those fucking vultures that if they send another one of those up, I’ll blast it out of the fucking sky! How fucking dare they invade my privacy… it’s a fucking liberty…’
Hervé stood firm, going nowhere fast and keeping his eyes trained on the rifle as he dismissed the driver of the other car then pulled out his phone. Ignoring him, Joe turned to his sons. ‘Ace, bring me the box of cartridges, Lance, get me a bottle of whisky.’ As if knowing they were both going to object, Joe raised his hand to both of them, one finger pointed upwards. ‘Don’t speak. Just do it.’
Ace and Lance hovered for a second and looked to Jenny for support so when she gave a quick nod, they did as they were told, passing Gus at the door who was brought quickly up to speed by Lance.
Hervé had finished speaking to one of his colleagues and then turned to address Joe. ‘You do know that whoever was operating the drone will have a live feed directly to their mobile device and now they have footage of you with a rifle, shooting down their drone.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Joe.’ This was Gus who looked dishevelled, woken from sleep by the gunshot and no doubt scared half to death, and now was pacing the yard.
Jenny attempted to calm the situation. ‘Well, it’s done now and hopefully it’ll be a stark warning to others and anyway, I think Joe’s right. It’s an intrusion and about time they learned to respect boundaries.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get that, Jen, but you know how they’ll spin this, and Joe is going to come across as a gun-toting lunatic. Christ, I can see the headlines now.’
Jenny could only agree because Joe really had handed the press a scoop, even though she quite fancied taking shots at the drones and if she was honest, the bloodsuckers down by the gate.
While Gus and Hervé collaborated, trying to fathom the best way to deal with what had just happened, Joe listened, refusing to give up his rifle, adamant he’d shoot every single drone out of the sky, utterly unrepentant. When Ace appeared with the box of cartridges, followed closely by Lance with the whisky and some glasses, Joe climbed aboard the back of Silvestre’s pickup truck and spoke directly to Gus.
‘I’m sorry, old friend, but I ain’t having none of this bullshit, and I’m going to stay right here and if they send any up with night vision, them fuckers are getting blasted to shit too.’
It was with a sigh that Gus held up his hands in surrender and signalled to Hervé that they should go inside and formulate a plan for damage limitation, leaving Wild Joe Jarrett to defend the homestead.
Jenny then remembered Edie who had remained silent throughout, a pale-faced observer standing just to the left of the door. She was hugging her body, shivering and barefoot and it occurred to her that the kid probably felt like she’d landed on Planet Crazy when she arrived at the farm. She really did look lost.
Instinct kicking in so loud that she was surprised nobody could hear her clucking, Jenny wandered over to Edie and placed a protective arm around her shoulder as they watched Lance and Ace climb aboard the truck. ‘Hey, Ede, you know what they say, don’t you?’ Edie looked at Jenny with a bemused expression. ‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. What say we grab some blankets and keep the guys company? We can be spotters, watch for drones and Joe can shoot ’em down. If the press wants some photos of the whacko Jarrett dudes, let’s give ’em something to talk about. In fact, I have an idea. Come on.’
Grabbing Edie’s hand she dragged her inside, not giving her time to object, issuing orders, and ringing Nanou. Jenny loved it when she got her real crazy on. It was like her blood was on fire and her mind was doing a happy Navaho dance. She was in full warrior mode.
Two hours later, they were all in the yard. Fairy lights lit the passion flowers that crept around the kitchen windows, colourful bulbs draped around the truck that looked like it was going to take part in a carnival. They had dragged the garden furniture over and arranged it by the tailgate, and Silvestre had brought out the barbeque while Jenny and Edie carried the fire pit and set it in the centre.
Gus had forgiven Joe, rang Oliver and told him to ride the storm for one more day and on Jenny’s orders, he’d settled down in front of the flames, covered by a blanket and with a glass of red in hand, a bottle by his side. Nanou had raided the fridge, and soon the air was filled with the sound of a ‘Jenny style’ birthday celebration, much needed laughter mingling with woodsmoke and the aroma of steak haché cooking on the grill.
While the security guys ate their burgers and watched from their jeeps, Ace fetched his and Joe’s guitars and by the light of a quarter moon, with Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn fully visible in the inky sky, they all sang the birthday boy into a new day. Jenny knew it had been worth the risk, of being seen by the press and their night-vision lenses, maybe heard as their voices carried on the wind but it was her boy’s day. It was good to loosen up and catch a break. She also couldn’t risk leaving Joe alone, to a gun, a bottle of whisky and the demons that were now roaming in his mind.
They’d camped out till the early hours. Jenny kept an eye on Edie who seemed to have no idea that Lance was doing the same thing, watching each time she took her phone to check the screen, only to look disappointed before putting it away. She had no clue what Lance’s problem was, or why Edie looked despondent but resolved to get to the bottom of it as soon as.
When it seemed as though the threat of bandits on the horizon had receded, one by one everyone sloped off to bed, tired smoky eyes blurred by alcohol, all sung out. Even the dogs had had enough of the great outdoors and snuck away to get some sleep.
But when Jenny looked out of her bedroom window later that morning and squinted her eyes at the too-bright sun, and looked down onto a misty yard below, Joe was back at his post, dogs, coffee, cigarettes, and a gun by his side.
Not wanting to startle Edie, Jenny called out as she approached. ‘Hey, Old Mrs MacDonald, I brought you coffee.’
Looking up, Edie smiled and after scattering a last handful of feed, made her way over to where Jenny waited, perched on top of a square bale of hay that was still slightly damp. ‘Come and sit.’ She tapped the patch by her side and smiled as Edie did as she was told.
Edie took a sip of her coffee that was just about cool enough. One sugar, a drop of milk: Jenny remembered stuff like that, and also the odd way Lance had been acting towards Edie.
