Free Odd Billy Todd by N.C. Reed Page B

for farm folks. His mother had always watched for good books for sale at the town library, and at yard sales.
    He came across one of his father’s older books, called the Ranger Handbook. Billy wasn’t sure what it was about, but it looked interesting, and it felt right. Billy trusted that intuition in almost everything, and saw no reason not to trust it now. He took the book down, settled into his father’s old chair, and started reading.
    At first he found the going difficult. The book was very detailed, and often the writing was so technical that Billy just couldn’t get it. But as he continued to read, the book began to flow to him much better. The instructions began to simplify, and accompanying diagrams and drawing helped him better understand what he was reading.
    By the time he was a fourth of the way through it, Billy found himself immersed into the book. So engrossed was he that he didn’t realize how long he’d been reading until Rommel came to him, insistently wanting ‘out’. Looking at the clock on the wall, Billy realized he had been reading for over three hours. It was nearly lunch time.
    “Wow, boy. Sorry about that,” he told the dog, laying the book aside, and rising. He took Rommel to the back door and let him out, then decided he’d fix a light lunch. Rommel was finished by the time Billy had mixed some tuna, so he let the big dog back inside, fixed himself two sandwiches and a glass of water, and continued to read over lunch.
    Billy realized that his father must have read this book. There were notes in many of the margins, and some of those notes were addressed to him. To Billy.
    The notes explained several items in the book in terms that Billy found easier to read and retain. Facts began to squirrel themselves away in his mind, mingling with other things his father had taught him over the years. Tactical solutions to problems he encountered. Ideas to improve his security at the farm. Billy began scratching notes to himself as he read, making sure to take note of the most important things. Or at least, what his father seemed to have thought were the most important things.
    He paid extra close attention to those notes, knowing that his father had made them for him. As he read those notes, Billy began to think about the things he’d done the last few days. Now, looking back, he could see that he hadn’t been nearly as careful as he should have been. He’d gone into more than one place without his rifle. He wasn’t carrying extra ammunition for the rifle or his pistol. He wasn’t carrying his shoulder bag, but rather leaving it in his truck.
    “I got to pay more attention”, he told himself, shaking his head. “Stupid, stupid mistakes. Mistakes that could get me hurt, or killed. I need to be more careful.”
    As these thoughts started bouncing around in his head, Billy started re-thinking everything he’d done in the last few days. Was someone watching? Had they seen him? Did they know him? Know where he lived? Every question just brought up more questions, and with them more uncertainty. He had thought, at least some of the time, that he might be the only person left alive anywhere around. Thinking that had made him careless.
    “I knew better. I know better. Dumb, dumb, dumb!”
    Billy was starting to get what his mother had called ‘worked up’. His mind was racing, playing over all the mistakes he had made, the things he had done wrong, the chances he had taken, all in an endless loop. Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore, and he stood up. He paced all over the house, walking back and forth. He didn’t know how long he did that.
    Rommel followed Billy every step of the way. He could tell that his person was upset, but the dog could see no threat. This wasn’t the first time his person had become like this, even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Rommel was becoming used to it, but he still didn’t like it. Finally, after a long time, (thirty minutes is a long time in doggy