Violet didn’t like being talked about, particularly when people didn’t think she could hear them. At the same time, however, the old man had sort of paid her a compliment. She scooted down the concrete ledge to get closer to them and caught a whiff of old lady perfume.
“They don’t look much alike,” the old woman said. “Could be a stepdaughter.”
“Blood relations don’t always look alike,” the old man replied.
Violet finally cleared her throat and leaned toward them. “Zoe is not my mom. She’s just the librarian.”
“Well, there you go,” the old man said. “There’s our answer. Young lady, you did a good job planting that flower bulb. Marna and I were impressed. You get along just fine, don’t you?”
Violet didn’t know whether to be offended or proud. At least someone had finally noticed that she got along just fine. Most people assumed she was helpless.
“I learned how to garden from my grandma,” Violet said. “I probably know a lot of what Zoe’s talking about already.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?” the woman said. “What’s your name, dear? We’re Brad and Marna.”
“Violet.”
Zoe and the Horton kids were distributing garden tools, and Violet felt a wooden handle thrust against her forearm. She grabbed it and found herself holding a small trowel.
“Nice to meet you, Violet,” the man—Brad—said. “Are you local, or did you get stranded here in town like us?”
“My dad and I drove from Tennessee,” she said. “It was a long, horrible drive, and we almost didn’t make it.”
“Oh, we know exactly what you mean,” Marna said. “We were near Albany, almost a hundred miles southeast of here, when the power went off, and, my gosh, it was utter chaos.”
“Utter chaos,” Brad echoed. “This godawful biker gang took over our whole neighborhood. It was some Mad Max nonsense, let me tell you. They were publicly whipping people in the cul-de-sac and everything. We had to sneak out of there in the middle of the night.”
“That sounds terrible,” Violet said.
“We left behind almost everything we own,” Marna said. “We didn’t know what we were going to do. When we ran out of gas, here we were, stuck by the side of the road just about a mile from where we are right now. And wouldn’t you know it, people in this town have been so helpful!”
Violet couldn’t remember the last time perfect strangers had entrusted her with their story. They usually talked down to her. These two were engaging her in an actual conversation, and suddenly she wasn’t thinking about the workshop or Zoe or anything else.
“Where are you guys staying?” Violet asked Marna. “I hope you’re not living in your car.”
“Oh, no, no,” Marna said. “Your wonderful mayor has set up a tent camp in a park not far from the high school. They’ve installed outhouses, and we’ve got filtered water. It’s not bad.”
“Well, it’s a whole lot better than what we escaped from,” Brad said. “I can’t believe the government is letting gangs take over neighborhoods. Where’s the National Guard when you need them?”
“Probably busy somewhere else,” Marna said. “The only problem at the tent camp is the lack of food. It’s hard to come by. That’s why we really liked the idea of starting a community garden. There’s a perfect place for it at the back of the park near the creek.”
Seeing an opportunity, Violet seized it. “I can help you set up a garden in the park. I know all about planting and growing warm season crops. Beans, cantaloupe, sweet corn, cucumbers, eggplant, okra, field peas, peppers, squash, tomatoes, and watermelon all grow really good this time of year.”
“My goodness, all of those sounds delicious,” Brad said. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice ripe watermelon right about now.”
“Fried okra,” Marna said. “I’d give just about anything for some fried okra.”
“So let’s do it,” Violet said. “I’ll come with you and help you set it up. I can show you how to till the ground and everything.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Marna said.
“Yes, it does,” Brad said.
It was the most anyone had ever expected or asked of her, and she was so elated, she thought might pop. This was all she’d wanted: to be useful, to be recognized for what she could contribute. Though she’d just met Marna and Brad, she would have given them both a big hug if she’d dared.
“Well, now, we should probably ask Mayor Frank first,” Brad said. “This’ll mean tearing up some of the park, and we’ve already torn up a lot of it with our tents. Also, we’ll have to put up some sort of fence to keep the deer and other wildlife from eating everything.”
Violet wasn’t about to let her opportunity slip away. “I’ll talk to him. He’s friends with Sheriff Cooley, and the sheriff is kind of friends with me. I can go to his office right now.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go right now,” Marna said. “I sure wouldn’t want you to miss the workshop. They’ve got a big stack of books over there. Looks like we’re about to talk about harvest times.”
“I just want to know what grows fastest,” Brad said. “Whatever it is, let’s plant a lot of that so we can eat something before we all starve.”
Violet was full of restless energy now and couldn’t sit still. The garden was a great idea, and for once, she was right in the middle of it. Despite the fact that the workshop was still in full swing, she rose and made her way toward the sound of the Horton kids.
Ruby seemed confused about where they were going, and Violet wasn’t sure how to tell her to go toward the Horton kids. The presence of the crowd sitting on the lawn made Ruby continually pull left and right, but Violet kept her moving in what seemed like the right direction. It sounded like the Hortons were helping people pretend to dig up weeds, as Zoe critiqued their technique.
“If you do it that way, you’re going to create divots,” she was saying.
Violet approached one of the Horton kids and gingerly reached out, aiming for a shoulder to tap. Instead, she poked someone in the ribs. The other person made a surprised squeak and rounded on her.
It’s Amelia, Violet thought. She has the more normal voice of the two sisters.
“Amelia, can you help me?”
“Oh, are you hurt?” Amelia said. “What’s wrong?”
Violet found it a strange response, but she tried not to think about it too deeply, afraid it would offend her. Zoe spoke up then.
“Is there a problem, Violet?”
“No, ma’am,” Violet replied. “I want to go and talk to Mayor Frank. I thought I might try to get his permission to start a garden in the city park to feed all the tent camp people.”
“How nice,” Zoe said, “but you’ll miss the workshop.”
“Well, I know most of what I need to know already,” Violet said. “Plus, I’m mostly just sitting there doing nothing, so…” She shrugged.
Zoe hesitated a moment before answering. “I suppose it’s fine. His office is right across the street there. Amelia, would you mind accompanying her? Let her do the talking. I’m sure Frank will respond well.”
“I guess so,” Amelia said. “Come on, Violet.”
Violet bent down close to Ruby. “Follow her, Ruby. Let’s go.”
The guide dog pulled her nimbly through the crowd and across the lawn. It was a small thing, really, getting permission to start a garden, yet Violet thought this might’ve been just about the best day of her life.
“It’s kind of boring anyway,” Amelia was saying. “I mean, sure, it’s important for people to learn how to grow squash and stuff, but that doesn’t make it interesting.”
Violet could tell they were crossing a parking lot. She marveled at how quiet the city was. It was a still, hot day, absolutely stagnant and miserable. She didn’t care. It could have been a hundred and fifty degrees, and she would have felt a giddy energy. For once, Ruby wasn’t moving quite fast enough, and Violet kept gently shaking the harness.
“I wa
s going to stay home and maybe learn some shooting skills from your brother Owen,” Amelia said. “He’s really helpful, you know? He’s nice to me. I like spending time with him. But he couldn’t get the gun from your dad.”
Violet scarcely heard what she said, too busy in her own thoughts. “I thought Zoe needed my help at the workshop.” The hard ground changed beneath her feet, and she knew they were crossing the street. “I guess not. I just sat there. Zoe never called on me.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Amelia said. “It wasn’t that fun. Gosh, I wish there was a basketball hoop or something at the house. No computer, no phone, nowhere to run around, it just gets so boring. That’s the only reason I agreed to come here.”
“My grandma taught me a lot about gardening,” Violet sat. “There’s a lot I could have said. I thought Zoe would know better since her sister was like me, but I guess not. At least Marnie and Brad are nice.”
She and Amelia were speaking right over each other, so Violet finally stopped. Ruby pulled against the harness to warn her about a step up. Violet sensed the approaching front wall of a building by a change in the air.
“There’s a door right here,” Amelia said from her left.
Ruby led her through the open door into a stuffy interior. Violet felt a slick, hard floor beneath her, as if she were in an office building. Someone moved on the far side of the room, hard-soled shoes clacking on the floor.
“Hey there, kids.” It was Mayor Frank Zion’s deep voice. She thought he sounded annoyed. “I saw you across the street there. Seems like we had a good turnout for the gardening workshop.”
There were other people in the room, but Violet couldn’t tell who they were.
“Did you need something?” the mayor asked.
“Sir, we had an idea that we wanted to run past you,” Violet said. “I was talking to Marna and Brad, and they agreed with me.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Marna and Brad from Albany,” she said. “The ones who escaped the biker gang.”
“Ah, yes, the nice older couple,” he said.
“Well, anyway, we thought it would be a good idea to maybe start a garden in the park near the tent camp,” Violet said. “We could fence off a place near the creek to keep the deer out and plant all kinds of stuff. They said we need your approval since it’s in a city park, so…so that’s why we’re here.”
Frank grunted. “Well, look, kids, I’m in the middle of a meeting here. We’re working on distribution plans for the food bank, so I don’t have the time to discuss this right now. Why don’t you talk about it with Zoe, and maybe she can meet with me later? Okay? Thank you.”
She heard him walking away from her, heard the squeak of a chair on the floor, the rustle of papers. Clearly, they had just been summarily dismissed.
“We just need to get your permission,” Violet said. “If you can just…”
“It’s not a good time,” Frank said. “I appreciate your creativity, kids, but let’s go ahead and finish the workshop, okay? We’ll talk about it another day. Thank you.”
Amelia grabbed her arm.
“I don’t think he wants to talk to us right now,” she said. “Let’s go back.”
Violet allowed herself to be turned back toward the door, Ruby padding along beside her. Amelia held the door for her, and she stepped outside. They went from stuffy heat to sweltering heat, and Violet felt her excitement giving way to desperation. Had the beloved mayor just cast her perfect idea aside with barely a thought?
“Guess we’re not important enough for him,” Amelia said, as the door swung shut behind them. “He doesn’t seem like the friendliest person in the world.”
“I always thought he was nice,” Violet replied. “My grandma used to like him. Used to.”
“Well, he’s got no time for us. Sorry, Violet. He’s a big so-and-so doing big things, and we’re just kids.”
As they crossed the street, heading back toward the library, Violet felt two distinct paths ahead of her. The mayor had hurt her feelings, and she knew she could give into self-pity easily and start wallowing. On the other hand, the enthusiasm for her new project lingered, and she saw clearly that she could reject the self-pity and become even more willful.
We’re going to make this garden happen, she told herself. I don’t care if the mayor thinks I’m a pest. Marna and Brad need my help.
As they approached the workshop, Violet heard the clink and clank of gardening tools, the rustle of book pages, a few whispered conversations. She initially intended to wait for an opening, maybe until the end of the workshop, but she couldn’t contain herself. Ruby came to a stop when they reached the back row of people, and Violet immediately raised her hand and cleared her throat. Zoe stopped speaking mid-sentence.
“Violet, is there a problem?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Violet replied. No, don’t apologize, she told herself. Keep going! Make it happen! “I just need to take an informal poll. See, we had this great idea to start a community garden at the park—you know, where all the people are staying. Anyway, I just wanted to see how many people would commit to helping take care of it. If you’d be willing to help, please say, ‘Aye.’”
A moment of dead silence passed, and Violet felt her confidence quickly melting. Then Marna spoke.
“Aye! I’ll help.”
“Aye from me, too,” Brad said.
Then others said it. Violet recognized the voices of Libby, David, and Amelia, but she also heard about a dozen other people. She couldn’t believe it. People responding to her idea, people who didn’t even know her and who could clearly see her condition!
“Wow, that’s awesome,” she said. “Thanks, everyone. I can lead the project. I know a lot about gardening. We’ll need to build a fence, but I think my dad and—”
“Well, now, wait just a minute,” Zoe said, interrupting her. “This is a pretty big project we’re talking about here.”
“Yeah, but with all of these volunteers, we can do it,” Violet said.
“I mean…yes, they volunteered.” Zoe was clearly measuring her words carefully. “But it’s one thing to verbally commit to something, it’s another thing altogether when it comes to the actual work. If you plan to make a garden substantial enough to help the tent camp, you’re talking about tilling, preparing, planting, and caring for at least—at least—a couple of acres. Even then, we’d have to stay on top of it every day. Are people willing to do that?”
“I am,” Marna said.
Violet wasn’t going to let Zoe discourage her volunteers, but rather than argue with her, she decided to try a different approach.
“You could help us, ma’am. You seem to know a lot about gardening, and you’ve got all of the resources here at the library. With your guidance, we can do it. I know we can.”
“My dad has a hand tiller in his shed.” She didn’t recognize the voice. Some young man in the crowd. “I’d be willing to till up the land.”
“See there?” Violet said. “Will you help us, too, Zoe?”
“Well…” Zoe sighed. “I suppose so. How much land is available to us?”
Amelia answered before Violet could. “Exactly zero square inches. Mayor Zion wouldn’t give us the time of day.”
“He didn’t say no,” Violet quickly clarified. “He was just too busy to discuss it right now. I’m sure he’ll approve our idea once he’s had a chance to think about it.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Zoe said. “Let’s meet again on Monday to talk about it. If you were all serious about volunteering, come back then, and we’ll make concrete plans. In the meantime, Violet, you need to work on getting the mayor’s permission. If I’m going to help, I have to know how much land is available to us.”
“I’ll get his permission,” Violet said.
One way or another, she added silently.
7
Beth had insisted on making dinner herself and wouldn’t accept help from Jodi. That was just as well. Jodi was still feeling quite
miserable, so she planted herself on the couch, idly flipping through old magazines she’d found in a drawer in the bathroom. Lots of Home and Garden. In between reading articles, Jodi fanned her face with the magazines.
After a while, Jodi began to smell some pungent, garlicky dish. Wincing at the pain in her back, she rose and made her way to the dining room just as her mother began bringing the food inside. Dinner turned out be a spicy corn soup, a three-bean casserole, and a few sausages, and it didn’t take long for the smell to bring the rest of the family. Corbin and Owen wandered in from the backyard. Violet and Ruby, followed by Kaylee and Bauer, came from the back bedroom. Eventually, Shane went and got the Horton kids, and Mike showed up last of all, dropped off at the house after a long day of work with Sheriff Cooley.
To fit everyone in the same general vicinity, they set up a folding card table in the doorway between the living room and dining room. The Horton kids seemed to prefer it. This time, however, Owen sat with them. Knowing her son, Jodi assumed he didn’t want the Horton kids to feel like outsiders. It was a full house, and the clink of silverware against plates, the laughter, the smells of food—it all seemed so normal, as if the world weren’t dying around them.
Mike regaled them with stories about the weird goings-on in the community. He’d spent his day listening to crime reports, which mostly involved minor—and occasionally absurd—problems. One family had burned down their storage shed while trying to cook a meal over an open fire of diesel-soaked wood pallets. There was a lot of petty theft, a lot of seemingly pointless acts of vandalism, people threatening each other and getting into fights.
“There are lot more weirdos in our community than you might imagine,” Mike said.
“I’ve noticed,” Beth replied. “Did you get a good look at the room during our last town meeting? It was a wake-up call for me, to be honest.”
Kaylee mostly sang to herself and played with her food, the Hortons kids chatted quietly amongst themselves, and Violet sat in stony silence. But suddenly, during a lull in the conversation, Violet cleared her throat and sat up, a forkful of three-bean salad poised halfway to her mouth. As soon as she spoke, Jodi could tell she’d been planning to say something for a while because the words came out so loud that Violet flinched, stopped, and started again at a lower volume.
Surviving The End (Book 3): New World Page 7