The Judge made me feel very much at home in the cabin. It felt odd. Not odd for anything bad but odd for me to actually like a place. I’d been on the run for so long that there were times that I thought that I was destined to be a ‘queen of the road’ for good but there was something about the place that got to me within a couple of hours of me seeing it for the first time.

It wasn’t all plain sailing though. The judge grilled me on my life. He was so easy to talk to that I truly let my guard down for the first time in years. That night, I thought briefly about leaving and decided that I’d stay for at least a while.

When I told him the next morning, he was very pleased.
“This is a much better view than from the inside of the county jail.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that but from my experience, this is in a different league.”

That pleased him no end. Our discussions in the evening were different to almost any other talk that I’d ever had since the death of my mom. He treated me like an adult. When I asked him why, he simply said,
“You are more worldly wise than anyone of your age that I’ve ever met. Your experiences on the road are worthy of a book.”

The mere suggestion that I should write a biography of my life so far was to me laughable. For starters, no one would ever believe a word of it but we had a good laugh about it. That was the icing on the cake of my opinion that he was one of the good guys.

---

The judge left me alone late the next afternoon. As far as he was concerned, I now knew how to shoot a rifle, badly, use the chainsaw and log splitter without chopping my leg off and most importantly in my eyes, use the range to cook food and to provide heat for the cabin.
E road
He’d also given me his wife’s old laptop that was just gathering dust at the cabin. I wasn’t sure if I’d use it but the prospect of writing down my history was tempting but… I needed to think about it.
“This place should give you some time to think about the future,” were his parting words.

I appreciated his generosity but he was adamant that I was not in his debt for even a single cent but I gave him a big hug before he climbed into the Subaru.

“Thank you for rescuing me from that PD.”

He shook his head.
“You don’t need to thank me. As soon as I saw your mugshot, I knew that it was time for me to stand up those corrupt SOB’s. When you leave, give me a call so that I know that this place is empty again.”

“I will.”

“Good. In the escape tunnel, there is a glass jar with close on a thousand dollars in it. It is yours to use to buy groceries and the like while you are here. I don’t expect to find any left when I return and I’m not going to take a no for an answer.”

I knew from his tone the same one he’d used for tearing off the ADA back in his court that he meant every word.

“Thanks again, Judge. One day, I’ll find a way of paying you back.”

He just smiled back at me.
“Just promise me one thing Tiffany.”

“If I can, I will.”

“That’s about all I can hope for. Promise me that when you get Justice for your mom that you will become the woman that there is inside you just waiting to get out…”

He’d never really mentioned my gender before.
“I’ll try but it isn’t going to be easy. Some of the laws being proposed in parts of this country will make the lives of anyone like me a big problem”

“I’ll take that as a promise and yes, you are right about the laws and the misguided views of politicians and that includes your father.”

I knew from reading the internet versions of the local newspapers about the laws his party had proposed. So far, they didn’t have the votes to pass them but it is election year…”

Then my friend, the judge got into his car and drove off. I stood there watching long after he’d disappeared out of view. I owed him big time. Normally, I’d not like being beholden to anyone but with him, it didn’t matter. I would pay him back with interest in the future. I resolved not to let what just happened dwell on me. Payback would happen when my father was either dead or sent to jail for life. My only regret was that I had spent so little time with this man. I respected him and that was a new thing for me. Most of the time, I despised all men for what they did to people like me. He was different and I found that both odd and at the same time rather strange.

---

For the first time in years, I had the time to sit and think. There was no pressure on me to get out of town or wherever I was at the time. It all felt a bit odd. I felt a tinge of regret because Judge Francis was the first person in a long time who had not only treated me well but had shown an interest in my case. Ok, it was for reasons of his own but the sphere of evil that surrounds my father had spread a long way after all these years.

I promised myself once again that one of these days, I would send him away for what he’d done to my mom and had tried to do to me.

---

[two days later]

I’d just finished doing the washing up after lunch of chicken soup, when I heard the sound of an engine. I looked down the track towards the road but I could see nothing. Then my ears told me that the sound was coming from a different direction. Almost without thinking, I went outside to greet the visitors, then I panicked. I dashed back inside and grabbed the rifle and waited out of sight.

My visitor came into view on a quad bike. I saw that he was wearing some sort of uniform. I relaxed and after putting down the rifle I went to greet the man. The Judge had described the uniform that the Fire Watchers used. Judging that by his appearance, this was one of them. An official looking crest on the side panel of the Quad, pretty much confirmed that conclusion.

He came to a stop outside the cabin and switched off the engine. Then after climbing off the bike, he came towards the cabin with a smile on his face.

I put down the rifle behind the door and went outside to greet him.

“Hi there, neighbour!” he said cheerfully.

“Hello.”

“My name is Cory Morgan. I’m one of the Fire Watchers. Our post is three miles up the hill. We saw the smoke from the cabin the other day and because it is still rising, I came to say hello. We always check on the comings and goings just to know who is around in case a wildfire comes through. But, from time to time, we get a few squatters.

“Hi, I’m Tiffany. How do you know that I’m not one of them? Squatters I mean?”

“Because one of our patrols ran into the Judge as he was leaving the other day. He tipped us off that you are here alone. We are here if you need us.”

“Thanks for that. Can I offer you some coffee?”

“Next time perhaps. It is not every day that we get a pretty-woman in the area.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere unless you have some of my coffee!”

Cory laughed.

“Touché Tiffany. Next time I’ll have some coffee. I have to get going as I’m going to the store to pick up a package. Delivery companies won’t venture up to our station so they drop things off at the store. I want to get there before they close for the day.”

I smiled.
“Ok Cory. You are forgiven. I’ll hold you to the ‘next time’ promise, ok?”

“Is there anything I can pick up for you? The judge has a good line of credit with the owner.”

“I’m fine thanks. The judge and I brought a lot of food with us. I’ll probably take a trip down to the store in the middle of next week.”

“Ok, but if you need anything in a hurry, we can probably help out.”

“That’s nice to know Cory. I do appreciate it.”

“You take care now Tiffany. I can see that you have been busy with the chainsaw.”

I smiled.
“The judge drummed into me, ‘safety first’ when he taught me the right and wrong way to use it.”

Cory grinned.
“That’s the Judge all over. He’s a nice guy.”

He disappeared down the track less than a minute later. It was nice to know that I had some friendly neighbors up the hill.

---

The Judge had left me the keys to his ‘other vehicle’ or his ‘big-boys toy’ as he put it. The vehicle was a heavily customised 1970’s Jeep. Raised suspension, big… no make that very big tyres and a full roll cage. He’d explained that he was originally going to go off-roading in it but the death of his wife had robbed him of any enthusiasm for the sport. They’d worked on it together and the memories were just too painful for him to continue using it except in emergencies.

He’d told me that it was licensed and insured for use on the road and that I could use it whenever I liked. My problem was twofold. Firstly, I didn’t have a driving license and I’d never driven a stick shift. Seeing it sitting there ready to go was very tempting but the prospect of being pulled over by the law was just too much so I left it well alone. A young black person driving something as recognisable as that Jeep could very well be like a red rag to a bull for the local cops.

I had more than enough food for the rest of the week so I didn’t need to make a decision for a few more days. Which pleased me as I was not looking forward to climbing back up the track from the highway carrying a load of groceries.

In order to resist being tempted to drive the jeep, I covered it up in a Tarp. I sincerely hoped that being out of sight was also going to be out of mind. Then I stopped myself. I could drive… always assuming that I could manage the shifter down to near the road. That would keep me off the public roads and away from being pulled over by the local cops.

I did put some effort into making sure that the ‘ready to burn’ part of the wood pile was kept replenished. Heating the water for a bath took a lot of wood. The cabin had a huge cast iron bath with great views over the top of the forest. It was a great place to relax and think about my future just as the judge had said it would.

---

Whichever way I tossed the dice, every answer I could come up with for my future was full of clouds and uncertainty. That unsettled me no end but gradually, a picture formed of what I should do next. Like I’d been doing for more years than I care to admit, I had to move on but not yet. This time, I was determined that I’d do it on my terms. Being at the cabin was allowing me to recharge my batteries. Being on the run from my father and his cronies for so long had taken a toll on me mentally.

If and when I was going to leave, I owed it to the judge not to leave any food to either go rotten or for bear food. That was to be my tipping point but as was my habit, I prepared things so as to be able to leave at almost a moment’s notice. I regretted not having my old pack but that was long gone so at the insistence of the Judge, I’d bought a new backpack at the store on the way to the cabin but, it needed breaking in and made comfortable on my body so I began wearing it all day.

As the pack began to adjust to my body, I started to add items that I wanted to take with me to the pack. These were the things that I was going to take with me when I leave. I took the advice of the Judge and kept the pack in the escape tunnel when I wasn’t working on it or wearing it. Doing this meant that if I had another visit from one of the fire watchers, my intention to leave unannounced would remain hidden from view not that they’d be unduly bothered as I was sure that the Judge had said that one day I’d just up an leave the cabin.

---

All was going well with my relaxation at the cabin when on the Wednesday morning and just as I was preparing to go to the store for supplies, I had a visit from Cory, the fire watcher. He came down the track from his base at great speed. His Quad Bike skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust.

“Hi Cory. That was some entrance!” I commented.

“Hello Tiffany. This isn’t a social call.”

“Am I putting out too much smoke from the range?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing like that. The Judge is dead.”

Those four words hit me hard.

“What happened?”

“According to the Oregon State Police, his car was forced off the road as he travelled near his home a couple of days after he’d left here.”

“Oh Shit!”

Cory didn’t say anything.

“I guess that I’d better be moving on then. Now that he is dead, I’m sort of squatting. How did you guys find out about it? That’s in another state isn’t it?”

“My colleague Jac, is from Oregon. He watches the local TV news from Bend. It was only a news item because he is a sitting judge.”

“The Judge told me that he was going to retire at the election and take to the road in a Camper,” I said.

“That sounds about right. He talked about that when he came up at the end of April to sort out the cabin after the winter.”

I was still stunned by the news of his death. People who help the likes of me out of the goodness of their hearts are few and far between in this world.

“If I were you, I’d stay here for a few days. Get your thoughts together and come and see us. It seems that you don’t want to drive the jeep, one of us will take you to somewhere a bit less remote. I’m going home for a week in four days. I’d appreciate some company on the drive.”

I thought for a moment before asking,
“Sounds like you are going quite a way?”

“Bismarck or a small place very close to it, just a short drive along the interstates from Spokane,” said Cory with a grin on his face. I guessed that ‘short’ was a misnomer. Bismarck is in the middle of the plains and a long way from here as in the third state from the sun that had just come out for the first time that day.

“Past the ‘Concrete Cows’ then?”[1]

Cory laughed.
“You certainly know your US geography. They are about 30 miles west of Bismarck. The turnoff to my folks place is just over twelve miles past them.”

“Lots of wet days spent in Public Libraries I’m afraid. The idea of a ‘folly’ intrigued me. I read about them in England back before the Revolutionary War. We have quite a few of our own and I’d place those cows in the folly category.”

Cory smiled back at me. It was a nice welcoming smile.
“Are you up for it?”

“I don’t know. I need to rethink my plans. If I turn up at your lookout at the crack of dawn, in four days’ time, then you will know that I’ve decided to come with you.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

He got back on his Quad Bike and started the engine. Then he said,
“Be careful Tiffany.”

“Thanks Cory. I will.”

---

Cory disappeared in a cloud of dust, leaving me alone to ponder my future. The death of the Judge had thrown a huge spanner into my thinking. It all came down to when and how I should leave. Leave now and go where or wait a few days and go with Cory. Then there was the question about trusting Cory. It seemed highly unlikely that he was involved with any wrong doing but you never can tell.

That evening, I packed and repacked my backpack. I tried to be brutal with my selection but it was hard. Having a choice of clothes was something that I’d not had to deal with for well over a year, the last one being in Las Vegas. I remembered my time in Vegas with a good deal of affection. I’d even considered trying to put down some sort of roots. It had only come to an end when I was recognised by one of my father’s staffers who was in town on a dirty weekend. He just happened to come into the way off the strip, fast-food joint where I was working when I left for the day because he’d gotten lost on his way to the airport in his hire car despite the fact that there was a sign showing the direction to McCarron almost next to the joint. We bumped into each other and he knew right away who I was.

The subsequent altercation had attracted the attention of the local cops. They’d seen me a number of times when they’d come into the place for something to eat and drink. Luckily, they’d sided with me and had given the staffer a good talking too. Being a staffer for a Governor didn’t cut it with the cops. They’d seen his type before a were not going to let his bluster get the better of them. They soon sent him on his way but he didn’t leave quietly. His last words to me were….

“When I tell your Pa where you are, he’ll come looking for you. You know that he does not like loose ends.”

They told me loud and clear that I’d gotten rather complacent. I knew that he really meant in that my father would send someone else to do his dirty work. My father would never soil his hands with anything dodgy when there were plenty of hangers on only too willing to lick his boots and who would later be thrown under a bus without even a thought. He only ever thought about himself and how much money he could grift from the poor suckers who fell for his scams.

To him and his ilk us normal people are nothing more than a resource be used and discarded when they are no longer of use. I vividly remembered him saying at one political rally that was shown on TV, ‘why stand on the shoulders of giants when you can become a giant yourself’. I remembered thinking at the time that he’d forgotten to add, ‘by crushing all the little people who get in his way because you only count once every four years at election time.

It was less than a month later that my mother and his mistress was murdered. I hid from him and his goons for five days until my mom’s death was ruled suicide. Strange that being strangled by your lover can be ruled a suicide, but that was him covering his tracks. I was certain that I’d be next on the hit list. I hid out for the rest of the day and left the city of my birth on a bus to the middle of nowhere in the early hours. That first ride carried me to Nashville, which was the first of five busses that I took over the next three days until I felt that I was safe for the time being when I crossed into Ohio.

The middle of nowhere was where I was right now but in Washington State.

---

I was no farther forward in my decision making about when I should leave when I closed up the shutters the next evening. The Judge had said that it was good practice to do that in case a hungry bear came investigating during the night.

I stood on the veranda and watched the sun drop behind the mountains to the west. I could never tire of this view.

As I turned to go indoors, the doorframe to my right disintegrated. Then I heard the sound of a gunshot. Instinctively, I fled indoors and barricaded the door on the inside as several more bullets hit the frame and the door itself. Thankfully, the door had been made thick enough to stop a hungry bear that a few bullets were not going to penetrate them.

Then I shuddered. There were bullets that would have gone through a normal door like a hot knife going through butter. I was safe for the moment but I knew that I could not stay there for long.

I was well and truly up shit creek without a paddle unless I could get away unseen. I gave mental thanks for the Judge showing me the ‘fire escape’.

I heard some shouting from outside but ignored it. I had better things to do with my time.

I grabbed the laptop and its power-brick and shoved it into a shopping bag. After putting on my coat with a mental thanks to the judge for insisting on me getting one, I opened the escape door. As I climbed in, I recalled his words to me about marauding bears and ones on two legs. I knew now that he had been hinting at something like this.

Cory had warned me but somehow, I had once again grown complacent. I was in no doubt that I loved this place and that might have been my downfall.

I put those thoughts out of my mind as a banging started. Someone was pounding on the front door.
“Come on out. We have the place surrounded. Your Daddy just wants to talk!”

I knew that the owner of the voice was lying and that I had to get out of the house right now. As I shoved the shopping bag into the room below, I stopped. The voice was back.

“Come on out Darlin! Or we smoke you out.”

These guys must be mad. Didn’t they know about the fire watchers?

Then the blade of an axe appeared in the front door. They were not hanging about. Now it was time to move and fast.

I climbed down into the room below and made sure that the entrance stone was back in place. Any time that I could get on them the better whoever they might be.

After going along the tunnel and away from the cabin, I opened the escape hatch very cautiously. There were sounds of the door to the cabin being wrecked. I hoped that all the intruders were occupied with that.

I crawled out of the hatch and closed the door behind me. Then I ducked down the slope for about ten yards before standing up. The hill hid me from the view of those at the cabin. As I moved off towards the track that led to the fire watchers, I heard a new voice.
“The cabin is empty!”

That was followed by a shout again from a new voice.

“Find the bastard and bring him to me! Make sure that he is alive you understand! I am going to take great delight in killing him after I have fucked him like I used to do.”

The sound of that voice sent shivers down my spine. It was the voice of my half-brother, Dean.

[to be continued]

[1] I have passed them twice in my US travels. The first time was in 1975 on a Greyhound bus going from Seattle to Duluth. Seeing them appear in the early morning light was quite weird.