Complex City

by G H Edwards

  CHAPTER 15

  To Claire’s delight, the bridge had ended shortly after the gap, and they were back to having treelines on both sides. Michael had spent the day slipping in and out of sleep, but he woke up long enough to eat part of a sandwich Claire had made. Occasionally the trees on the right showed flashes of the most beautiful beach Claire had ever seen. She had been to the beach many times in Houston, but this area was unlike anything she’d seen before. The Gulf that Claire was used to seeing was packed with wind turbines, oilrigs, and hundreds of ships. But here the sand was nearly snow white, completely flat, and untouched. The water had a green glow and stretched impossibly far. The waves were small and gently lapped at the sand. A quiet “wow” slipped out her mouth without her noticing it. Resisting the urge to pull over and run into the water, she leaned back and enjoyed the smells of the ocean and began to nearly enjoy herself again.

  Finally the trees gave way, and the beach stayed in wide view as she passed old abandoned homes that lined the road. She wondered why anyone would want to move away from such a pristine location. It seemed to be the picture of perfect peace. She almost felt bad for polluting the still environment with the noise and dirt of the truck. Eventually the rundown homes disappeared and gave way to long fields on the left and the perfect sheet of water on her right. Soon clouds moved in, and the rain began. The large raindrops made loud slapping sounds on the windshield and roof as they sped through the storm, and she worried they might somehow break through the glass. Luckily they’d made sure Ol’ Blue had working windshield wipers and brand-new tires. What she wasn’t ready for was the water that leaked through the seals on her window. She had to move her body away from the door to prevent being dripped on. The leak explained the moldy smell they had found during the repairs in Houston. Her uncle had pulled out the seat and all the carpet, and it was Claire’s job to scrub the mold from the remaining base metal. As the dripping of water on her seat turned into a steady stream, the rain finally stopped and the sun returned. Claire was grateful to have her window down again. The air conditioning didn’t work, so anytime the widows were up the temperature inside the cab skyrocketed—a lesson they had learned the night before.

  As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Claire wondered how they were going to sleep that night. The windows up and windows down hadn’t worked. She was contemplating the problem when she noticed she should probably fill the gas tank again. She felt like the tank always needed to be refueled. She wondered if all cars went through gas as fast as the truck did; she didn’t know. What she did know was that she was well into the second gas can and was slightly worried they hadn’t brought enough, but there was nothing they could do about it now, she thought.

  Claire pulled the truck to a stop and shut off the engine. The engine chugged and banged as usual before finally falling silent. She was always a little nervous to get out of the truck, as though it were some kind of protective house. After grabbing her handgun, she slid out of the truck and began the routine of pulling out the gas can and filling up. Michael was awoken by the dying chugs and crawled out of the truck. It was the first time he had been out of the truck since the trip had begun.

  “Hey! How are you feeling?” she inquired, feeling silly every time she asked but not being able to think of anything else to say.

  “I’m doing okay,” Michael lied as usual, standing hunched next to Claire while she clumsily poured the fuel in.

  She was using the grapefruit juice fuel tube she had built. He looked at her creation, then saw the mud that was packed all along the fender, smelled the gas that was spilled, and noticed the large rip in the tail gate.

  “What have you been doing while I was asleep?” he asked with a slight smile.

  They both laughed.

  He looked back and noticed the sea. They both stood in silent awe as the fuel quietly glugged out of the can, down the tube, and into the tank. Michael put his arm around Claire’s shoulders, and she felt almost at peace. Like they could stay here and live away from the constant noise and rush of the city. Suddenly the peaceful quiet was broken by a strange foreign noise. Without a thought, Claire pulled out her gun and pointed it toward the front of the truck, where a child was standing in the road, looking at them.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Hello,” the little girl said sweetly. She looked to be around five and wore a dress that seemed to be sewn from patches of cloth. She had a tint of dirt on her but her beautiful brown eyes shone through.

  “Hello?” Claire said looking over at Michael who wore the same confused expression.

  “Yer truck is reeaaal loud,” the girl said in an accent that neither Claire nor Michael had ever heard.

  Lowering her weapon, Claire giggled. “Well, I’m sorry if we bothered you. What’s your name?”

  “Judy. It’s nice to meet ya. What’s yer name?” the girl said excitedly.

  “My name is Claire, and this is my husband Michael,” Claire said as Michael gave a quick smile. “Do you live around here?” Claire put down the gas can and walked toward the girl.

  “We live right pass dem trees. My daddy’s name is Tim, and my mommy’s name is Jenny. I ain’t never seen ya’ll before, and I’m not supposta talk to strangers, but yer truck was so loud I had to tell ya.”

  Claire laughed again and crouched in front of Judy. “You’re a funny little lady, aren’t you?”

  Suddenly a man’s voice called out from just off the road. “Judith, get over here!”

  The girl instantly turned and ran across the road to the man, who stood in the tall grass along the side of the highway. He was tall and thin and wore torn, dirty clothes. He had thinning silver hair that looked dirty and was matted down but combed to the side. He was very tan and had deep creases on his face that looked to be from years of a constant unamused look. In his right hand he held a long ax with the head lying on the ground at his feet. Claire thought right away that he looked like a character from the label of her favorite butter from back home. The humor of this image quickly dissolved away when she realized she was standing in front of an actual Billy. Michael had shuffled toward Claire and put his hand on her shoulder.

  There was a long moment of shocked silence that was broken when the man blurted out, “I ain’t some damn criminal.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll leave,” Claire said, turning around and almost dragging Michael back to the truck. She was in a near panic as she shoved him into the cab and almost closed the door on him. She quickly walked around the back of the truck and stepped over the gas can. She wondered if she would have to use her gun, but the thought of shooting someone who was standing next to a little girl sickened her. She glanced at the Billy as she scrambled into the driver’s seat and saw he was standing in the same place with the same stern look on his face as the little girl stood next to him, waving.

  “Bye,” the little girl chirped as Claire frantically tried to remember how to start the truck.

  “Hey, don’t leave yer trash lyin’ on my road!” the man yelled, pointing to the gas can next to the truck.

  Claire was completely flustered. She jumped out of the truck and started to haul the heavy can into the back of the truck bed.

  “Tim, don’t yell at ’em’!” a woman said as she appeared from a path in the overgrowth. She hustled past him, took Judy by the hand, and headed to Claire. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” she said in the same accent as the girl. “We jus’ don’t get people passin’ by here very often.” She was an older woman but looked slightly younger than the man. She had a thick mane of light-brown, almost red, hair with streaks of gray and wore a flowing patterned summer dress.

  Claire was scrabbling to secure the gas can. “It’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you.” She finished quickly and hustled back to the cab as the woman arrived.

  “It’s okay. Ya’ll don’t have to run off. Don’t mind Tim. He’s jus’ an old grump,” the woman said with a laugh.

  Claire laughed nervously as she opened the door. As it swung open,
both women saw that Michael was pale white, shaking on the seat, and had vomited on the floor.

  “Oh, ma god!” the woman yelped. “Is he okay?”

  Claire panicked even further and jumped to her husband. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him.

  “Tim, get over here quick!” the woman yelled.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tim had wordlessly hoisted Michael out of the truck and was carrying him through the tall grass. Claire was terrified that perhaps the Billies were kidnapping him, and she was just running alongside, but she knew she couldn’t leave without him. Should she shoot him? She tried to remain calm and not upset the Billies. She said over and over that he was okay and they were fine, but the man pressed forward. After a short walk, the thicket broke, and a large two-story house appeared. It looked to have been painted white years before, but there were large patches where the paint had peeled off and revealed the worn wood below. Two large pillars framed the entrance to a wraparound porch. Claire didn’t know if the house reminded her more of a mansion or a haunted house, but either way she didn’t want to go in. Tim carried Michael up a few stairs and across a large front patio, then disappeared into the house. Claire hesitated but was ushered in by the woman and Judy. As if sensing Claire’s fear, Judy took her hand and pulled her inside. Claire held her breath as she entered and wondered if she would ever leave the house alive.

  The foyer opened up to a large room that was both the living area and kitchen. It was dim, but Claire saw an assortment of old living room furniture and a kitchen with large pots. There were cabinets but no cabinet doors, and there wasn’t much to put in there anyway. Next to the kitchen Tim was putting Michael on a large thick dining table that looked to be handmade. Claire took up a position next to her husband and was in a near panic about everything that had just happened.

  “We haven’ seen anyone drive through here in at leas’ a year. And even then they sped through and almos’ hit us while we were walkin’ on the road,” the woman said as she set down a cup of warm liquid. Claire was both focused on her husband and the people who were standing around her and Michael.

  “Oh, yeah?” Claire said trying to be polite as she leaned over her husband. It was obvious the woman was kind but hadn’t talked to anyone in a long time.

  A long moment passed before the woman seemed to realize Claire was very tense.

  “Honey, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” she said, putting her hand on Claire’s shoulder.

  Claire jerked away and stared, terrified, into the woman’s brown eyes.

  “What’s yer name, honey?” the woman asked in a soft, reassuring voice.

  “Her name is Claire, and her husbent is Michael” Judy squeaked from her place behind her mother’s leg.

  The woman smiled. “My name is Jenny, and this lil bird down here is Judith. I see you met Tim.” She pointed to the man across the room, who was dipping a towel in a pot of water.

  Claire looked into Jenny’s eyes and sensed the woman was caring and mothering. The woman looked to be in her late thirties and had a tanned face like Tim’s, but unlike his, her face looked clean and fresh. She had few wrinkles or lines and looked pretty in a natural way. Her thick hair flowed down and rested on her shoulders. Jenny reached forward and put her hand on Claire’s. Claire noticed that Jenny’s hands were nothing like her face. Her hands were wrinkled and abused but felt strong. Claire looked up at Jenny only to see her studying Claire’s hands in the same fashion she was. Claire looked down and noticed the difference. Claire’s hands looked milky white and delicate, and her skin looked like porcelain compared to Jenny’s. Claire didn’t know why, but she felt embarrassed and wanted to pull her hands away when Jenny spoke. “Claire, don’t worry. We’ll help ya and send ya on yer way. Just take some deep breaths for me.”

  Claire did what she was told and felt more relaxed. Her new calm feelings were dashed, however, when a gruff Tim snorted, “What’s wrong with yer husband?” as he placed a wet towel on his forehead.

  “He has gerivirus,” Claire replied, looking down at her husband.

  There was silence as Claire helped place more towels on his forehead. After a few seconds, she glanced up and saw confused looks on her hosts’ faces. “I know… He’s too young to have geri. I know. But it’s true. We’ve had tons of tests taken. He’s fading even faster than the doctors thought he would.” Claire began to cry. “I think there might be a cure in Miami. I know it’s crazy, but we’re going there, and we need to hurry. I’m not going to sit back and watch Michael die.” She was crying uncontrollably now. “I’m serious. He has gerivirus, and he’s dying.”

  Claire laid her head on Michael’s chest and wrapped her arms over him. She heard his heart beating; it was very slow and quiet. She felt his shirt getting wet from her tears. She jerked her head back, not wanting to get him wet; she feared it could somehow make him sicker. She shoved her hand underneath his shirt and rubbed the wet spot between her hands in an attempt to dry it. She looked up at the Billies, who were standing next to each other with little Judith hiding behind Tim. They looked shocked, concerned, and even a little afraid. “What are you all staring at!” Claire yelled.

  “Claire, dear,” Jenny said moving toward her, “we just wanna help. Michael is obviously very sick. We can help ya, but ya need to calm down.”

  Claire looked up slowly at Jenny, who was now standing next to Tim, “You can help? You have the cure?” she said, her eyes beginning to grow wider.

  “Honey, ya both need some rest. Why don’tcha lie down here?’” Jenny said, overly slow and calm, motioning toward a tattered old couch in the center of the room.

  “You said you can make him better? Do you have the cure?” Claire screamed. “Do you have the cure?” She was nose to nose with Jenny. Claire felt herself losing control; the room was starting to spin.

  Judy cried and ran away as Tim stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Claire. He pinned her arms to her side and lifted her up. Terrified, Claire screamed and kicked wildly. Tim carried her out of the kitchen and away from Michael. With surprising ease, he took her across the house, up the stairs and through a door, into a small bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and held on to her. Claire was bucking frantically.

  “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh…” Tim whispered into her ear as he held her from behind. Thoughts were racing through her head. She might never leave this house. Her mother had been right; she’d never see Michael again. The last thing Claire noticed before passing out was the ropes being wrapped around her.

  CHAPTER 18

  Claire slowly opened her eyes to see a dim room. Confusion set in for a moment. Where was she and how did she get here? She turned her head and saw a nightstand with an old teddy bear on it. The smell of dust and stale air filled her lungs.

  A familiar, faint voice broke her confusion. “Hey, babe. You’re awake.”

  Claire rolled her head over to see Michael slumped in a chair next to a window. He was wrapped in a blanket, but he still looked even thinner than he had before; even so, he wore a small smile.

  Claire smiled too and relaxed when she saw him. Suddenly all the thoughts of his sickness, the trip, and then being carried and tied down rushed back to her. She bolted upright.

  “Holy shit,” she said. She felt for the ropes but there were none.

  “We’re okay, babe. Just relax,” Michael said weakly.

  Claire swung her legs off the bed and reached forward, putting her hands on Michael’s. “They have the cure?”

  The smile slowly left Michael’s face. “Claire, I’ve just had some time to rest, and they’re taking really good care of us. They’re good people.” His voice was still quiet but sounded slightly stronger than before.

  “Then why did they tie me down and lock me away?”

  “They said you were hysterical; they were afraid that you were crazy or a criminal or something. I talked to them and explained how much stress you’re under and how you’re a good person, and they untied you.”

>   “How long have we been here?”

  “A day.”

  “An entire day!”

  “Don’t worry. We needed the rest,” Michael said.

  “Oh, my God. I think I had a breakdown. I need to apologize to them,” Claire said as she stretched her body. She was stiffer than she ever had been, but she felt good. She looked around the small room and asked, “Are you sure these people are okay? They are Billies, right?”

  Michael flinched at the word “Billies.” “Claire, I’ve had a chance to talk to them and we were definitely wrong.”

  “So they’re nice people. Good. We should see about getting going.”

  “Let’s slow down. Dinner should be ready soon. We have a lot to talk about.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The table, which just a day before had been Michael’s gurney, was filled with food. Claire and Michael were served a creamy soup, a thick cut of some kind of meat, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Claire wondered how Tim and Jenny could be so thin and eat like this. She was starving and ate through a plate of food before anyone had finished their soup. Jenny quickly gave Claire more meat, which turned out to be lamb, and Claire ate that.

  Before they had sat down, Claire repeatedly had apologized to her hosts. She explained that she was so worried and tired that she went “a little nuts.” She was being overly careful not to sound crazy again. Jenny seemed to accept the apology, but Tim was icy and suspicious.

  Michael and Claire sat hip to hip on the bench on one side of the table. Across from them was Jenny and next to her was Judy, who was propped up on a stack of thick books. Before they ate, Jenny called for everyone to join hands and pray. Neither Claire nor Michael had ever prayed before, and the couple felt awkward about the ritual. Jenny led the prayer and thanked The Lord for the food and their new friends. Claire smiled warmly. Jenny went on to ask The Lord to look after the couple on their journey and help them find what they needed. Tears filled Claire’s eyes when she heard how passionately Jenny asked for Michael’s health to improve. The prayer ended with a group “amen,” and they all started their dinner. Tim sat at the head of the table, suspiciously watching the newcomers.