by Steven Pajak
“Who will protect us?” Kara asked. She held her baby, swaddled in a blanket, over her left shoulder. Her eyes were stricken with fear although her words did not betray her true emotions. “Are you staying with us?”
I was quiet then, unsure how to answer. I hadn’t considered the question of protection, nor had I considered anyone expecting that I would stay. It seemed logical, though, that I would stay behind with those who we were effectively abandoning, to keep them safe until we could join the rest of the community in the spring.
“You’ll protect each other,” Brian said before I could respond. “We’ll leave weapons, of course, but you’ll need to protect yourselves, just as we will have to do out there.”
“But you’ll have numbers,” Robert came to defense of his wife. “There’s, what, four of us? Ravi and Paul and Kara aren’t soldiers. We need protection and leadership just as much as you. Hell, don’t you think we need it more? We’re the ones stuck here on our own, hoping you come back for us.”
“We’re not going to abandon you,” Stan said. He took off his glasses and started to clean them on his shirt. “We will come back. Please, let’s not get so melodramatic here.”
“Easy for you to say,” Robert retorted. “You’re going with the group, I bet. You won’t be left here with the monsters and Providence. Who will stop them from coming in here and taking what we have left once you’re all gone?”
“We have nothing they want anymore,” Brian said.
“What about revenge?” Robert spat.
I saw Brian react as if he’d been slapped. Although Robert’s comment was coincidental, it had struck my brother’s raw nerve, the spot on his soul for which he felt he needed to atone. Until this moment, I had almost forgotten the conversation I’d had with my brother last night. I did not need Brian revealing the fact that we were the ones who started the war with Providence. That would only make matters worse.
“I’ll stay,” I said finally. When the room fell silent and all eyes were upon me, I repeated, “I will stay at Randall Oaks.”
“No,” Brian said immediately. His face grew suddenly red and the vein in his neck puffed up. “You can’t stay. You have to lead the group. They picked you to be in charge, you can’t just give that up for the sake of a few.”
“Robert is right,” I said. “Someone needs to stay with them and help them. We can’t expect them to survive without leadership. You can lead the away team to the Finnegans’ and I’ll ride out the winter here. We’ll meet up in the spring.”
Brian strode over to me now and took my arm, leading me off to the side. We stopped in front of Kat, Sam and Paul. In a hushed voice, he said, “Look, I can get them where we need to go, but once they’re there they need a leader. You have to go or old man Finnegan might very well call off the deal.”
“What does it matter to him whether I go or stay? He’ll get what he wants either way.”
“He has concerns,” Brian said. His eyes moved quickly back and forth, assessing who was within earshot. “He is concerned that a group as large as our might get unruly without proper leadership. He knows all about you and he wants you there. This is not negotiable, brother.”
“I can’t just leave them here,” I said. I started to walk away but Brian grabbed my arm again and pulled me back.
“Okay, I agree someone should stay, but pick someone else. You have to go.”
“I’ll stay,” Kat said suddenly.
Sam spun to her right to face her lover. “You will not.”
“Matt has to go and Brian knows the route,” Kat said. “He brokered the deal, so he has to go. Who else is there? No, it makes sense that I stay.”
“There we go,” Brian said, finally letting go of my arm.
Sam was desperate; tears fell down her cheeks. “Kathryn, you cannot stay. You’ve already given so much for these people. You sacrificed so much. You don’t have to prove yourself anymore.” She took Kat’s hand in her own. “I can’t go without you. I won’t.”
“Kat—” I tried to object, but she held up her hand to silence me.
She turned to Sam now and took the other woman’s face into her hands. “I love you, Samantha. I couldn’t live without you, baby. And I couldn’t do this without you.”
Tears continued to fall from Sam’s eyes as she hugged Kat. When they parted, Kat looked at me. Her eyes were dry, the pink punker of flesh on her cheek curved when she smiled. “We’ll stay, Matt. We’ll take care of them until you come back in the spring.”
“Kat, I can’t ask you to do that,” I said.
She shook her head. “You’re not asking.”
* * *
The meeting lasted another half hour. We decided Kat and Sam would stay and provide leadership and protection for those who remained. By the end of the day, Sam would set up a polling station and each person would give her their decision. Residents of Randall Oaks would have until tomorrow afternoon to make their decision and by evening the following day, Sam would have a final list of who would stay and who would begin the next part of their journey to Finnegan Farm.
After the meeting, I considered stopping by Lara’s but I was too exhausted and conflicted to be in her company. I really needed to be alone for a while, to allow my emotions to surface, to just…let myself feel whatever I needed to feel without hiding behind a mask for anyone’s benefit.
For the first time in months, I entered the bedroom I once shared with my wife and lay down on the king sized bed. The emptiness of it made me feel insignificant and alone. For a long time, I stared at the hole in the carpet near the door where my wife's blood once stained the carpet. After a while, I cried. I could still feel sorrow.
Chapter 10
A New Day
I spent much of the next day going through my house and taking inventory. I rearranged the furniture in the living room so that the center of the room was empty. I started two piles on the carpet: one for things I would take with me and one for things I would donate to the remaining residents of Randall Oaks. I didn’t expect this chore would take too long, but three hours later I was still at it and my travel pile was much too large.
With a heavy sigh I finally sat down to pare down the travel pile. Many of the items in this pile were extra weapons, food, tools, and books. As I rummaged, I noticed I had not taken any mementos of my wife and children. What the fuck did that say about me? Only three months had passed since I lost my entire family and already they were fading from memory. When deciding what I needed to take with to start a new life, I had packed ten knives and some autographed books, but not a single damn picture of my precious babies.
Angered by my oversight, I picked up an autographed copy of The Beardless Warriors and chucked it across the room where it slammed hard against a wall. I grabbed another cherished book, The Talisman—signed by both Stephen King and Peter Straub—and threw it with so much force that it knocked over the dining room chair it struck. A barrage of Dean Koontz paperback science fiction books followed. As I threw each book, I could hear myself breathing heavily, savagely. I felt foolish, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having this tantrum. I probably would have gone through the entire collection of novels if Brian hadn’t stopped me.
“Need some help?” he asked.
I paused with a paperback missile in my hand and turned toward the sound of his voice. He stood at the top of the stairs, leaning slightly over the half wall that also served as a railing. Slowly I put down the book and shook my head. Without a word, Brian turned away and went back downstairs where he was making his own piles of gear. I sat silently and listened to his footfalls thump down the carpeted stairs and then tap along the tiled floor of the lower level hallway.
After a deep breath, I assessed the damage. Thirteen books littered the living room and dining room. A couple of the heavier hardcover novels had been thrown with enough force that they left impressions in the drywall. Disgusted with myself for losing control, I stood up and started to pick up my mess. I gathered the books int
o my arms and set them in a stack on the dining room table and then set the fallen chair back on its legs.
In the living room, I sat at the edge of the sofa and looked at the photos on the end table. I picked up the photo of my children, the same one I had so rudely pulled from Lara’s grip. In the photo, Katie was wearing jeans and a pink shirt featuring Hello Kitty’s face. Mark wore khaki pants and a dark blue button down shirt. They stood in front of a large bear at the entrance to one of our favorite restaurants. Katie had her arm around her brother. Both children tilted their heads and were smiling at the camera. I could see the faint dip in Mark’s lip from where he had stitches after falling from his bed last year.
I folded the stand on the back on the frame and set the frame down on the sofa beside me. Next, I picked up a photograph of my wife. This was taken at a bridal shower for one of her friends. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The green of her shirt matched that of her eyes. Alyssa didn’t quite smile at the camera; instead she wore a mischievous grin and she was giving me the “sexy eyes.” I placed the photo on top of the first.
The next photo was a family photo from two years ago. We stood with Doc Brown in front of the Delorean from Back to the Future. Doc Brown was front and center, his hands on his hips, his pose defiant. He wore mirrored sunglasses and his white hair was wild. Alyssa gave him bunny ears. I laughed as I set that one into my pile.
After a few minutes, I ended up taking all of the frames that were set on the end table and adding them to the pile. Now I walked through the house taking other framed photos from the wall putting them on the pile. When I was done collecting, I removed the photos from their frames so that I could transport them more easily.
When I looked up, Brian was there again, leaning over the wall and watching me from behind his bangs. His eyes were mere shadows and his face unreadable. He watched me for a moment as I removed another photo from its frame. Finally he said, “There’s a photo album downstairs. I hope you don’t mind, but I packed it in my bag.”
I stared at my brother, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t, I said, “Thanks.”
He nodded his head. This time he didn’t leave. He had something else on his mind. I set down the empty frame from which I just removed a photo and stood up. I walked over to Brian and leaned on the wall next to him, facing the opposite direction. I had a view of the carpeted stairs and from my vantage I could see how stained the carpet was. Alyssa was probably turning over beneath the roses.
The silence between us was noticeably thick enough to cut through with a knife. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to say to my brother. In the past, I had always been the one that wanted to talk, whether it was about the way he was living his life, or about finding another job, I always knew what to say. I was always full of pearls of wisdom; now I was as empty as an oyster without a grain of sand under its mantle to cover in nacre.
I don’t know how long the awkward moment would have rolled on if Brian hadn’t spoken. He said, “We haven’t talked much since I got back.”
Still searching the carpeted stairs for stains I said, “We had a heart-to-heart your first night back.”
More silence spun out like a spider web. Then: “I’m sorry if I made things complicated, Matt. That shit we talked about the other night? That…I don’t know what that shit was, man.”
“Those are called feelings,” I said, still feigning interest in the stained carpet. “It’s okay to talk about those things.”
“Quit being an asshole,” Brian said. He stood up and dug his hands into his pants pockets. “I’m trying to apologize so we can move past this shit and start figuring shit out. And you’re acting like a little pussy.”
I stood now and faced my brother, reacting sharply to his words. As I turned toward him, his hands came out of his pockets although he didn’t raise them, but his instinct forced him to be ready to respond to my reaction. My eyes locked on my brother and I burst out laughing, spraying spittle in his general direction. I laughed harder when he jump back a step to avoid the spray.
“Dude, what the fuck? What’s so funny?”
“Did you just call me a pussy?”
He was quiet a moment while he replayed his words in his head. Finally he said, “Yeah. Pussy.”
My brother continued to stare at me, taking me in with his eyes that were shrouded behind those stupid bangs.
“I’m telling Mom,” I said.
Now it was Brian’s turn to spit laughter. It was contagious laughter and I joined him, laughing until my stomach hurt and I couldn’t breathe anymore.
When we were both finally in control of ourselves, I grabbed the tail of the front of his T-shirt and stretched it to wipe the tears from my eyes.
“What the fuck, pussy!” Brian said and pushed me away. That had us both laughing for again what seemed like minutes.
* * *
I left Brian at my house to sift over our gear. I came to the conclusion it would be best for him to decide what was essential for the journey to the Finnegans’. I realized I was taking the easy way out again, but we all had to choose our battles and this wasn’t one I really wanted to fight right now.
Braving the cold, crisp air, I crossed through the community and up the slight hill toward the command post where I checked in with Sam to see how things were going with polling. There was a short line at the front door when I arrived so I entered through the garage. The lights were on, which was surprising, and Ray sat in his chair in the middle of the room. Cody’s head was on his lap and Ray was scratching the dog’s ears absently.
I closed the door softly behind me but the sound jarred Ray from his reverie and his eyes darted toward me. His face which had been slack, even handsome for a moment, took on the hard, haggard look that Ray had perfected over the years since he lost his legs and took the life of a family on vacation.
“If you came to talk me out of going you’re wasting your time,” Ray said. He continued to scratch Cody’s ears. The dog’s head remained in his master’s lap but his sad brown eyes tracked me as I moved across the room and sat at the edge of Ray’s bed.
“I’m not here to talk you out of anything,” I said. “But I am curious, Ray. Why are you so hot on making this trip?”
“What do you mean?” His suspicious eyes took me in.
“Well, it’s going to be a hard trip. It’s cold and there’s a lot of snow and slush out there, and you’re in your chair. Why take the risk? You’ve got everything you need right here; your radio, heat, food. So why risk the trip, Ray?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything. Why are you hounding me? Go harass someone else.” To Cody he said, “Go lay down, boy.”
The dog lifted his head promptly from Ray’s lap and slowly walked to the bundle of quilts in the opposite corner where he circled and pawed the material for a moment before finally settling down with his muzzle over his paws. His brown eyes watched both Ray and I from across the room.
Ray wheeled his chair to his desk now, doing his best to avoid me. The empty desk offered him no activity to occupy himself, so he turned his chair to me again and wheeled right up to me. He stopped within inches of our knees touching. This close up, I could smell the man’s aftershave and sweat. The skin under his eyes was dark and mottled. White and black stubble peppered his cheeks and lip. His breath was hot and smelled like coffee.
“I won’t be bullied into staying behind and I won’t be psychoanalyzed—fuck that, interrogated—by you. Go bother someone else, will you? Just let me be.”
“Yeah, you’re a tough bastard, Ray. We all know it.” I fixed him with my best patient face, the one I had used with the men in my platoon who had disappointed me but I knew had potential to be good soldiers. “Look, Ray. I’m going to be straight with you. I think going out there in this weather, in your condition, is a mistake. And I think you know it is a mistake, too.”
Ray looked away from me now and grumbled something I didn’t quite understand. I continued, “T
he fact is, you’re going to slow us down out there, Ray. If you think otherwise you’re just bullshitting yourself. I’m responsible for these folks, Ray, and if you’re going to insist on coming with us and slowing us down, then I want to know why.”
“Fuck you,” Ray said. He tried to wheel himself away again, but I jammed my foot against the wheels halting him.
Gripping the arms of his chair tightly, I leaned in and locked eyes with the man. “Tell me why, Ray.”
“Leave me be why don’t you!”
“Tell me why or I will leave your ass behind, Ray.”
“I’m scared, all right?” Spittle flew from his lips and dripped down his chin. He balled his hands into fists and slammed them down against his unfeeling legs. “I don’t want to be left behind to die in this fucking place, okay? I won’t be left here to rot in this chair, in this garage. I don’t trust anyone else, okay? You keep me alive. I won’t survive without you. Is that what you want to hear?”
For a moment I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know why I was sitting here trying to break the man down; it was not my intention when I left the house this morning. Ray had just as much right as anyone to want to survive, and instead of encouraging that spirit, I spit all over it. I told myself that I was just being a good leader, looking out for the majority, but I didn’t believe it.
When Ray tried to wheel away, I didn’t stop him. He rotated the chair 180 degrees and with two quick thrusts on the wheels he crossed the room, stopping a few feet away from Cody. As I watched, the dog stood and came to Ray although he had not been called. The dog craned his neck and his pink tongue came out and licked the knuckles of Ray’s right hand. When Ray didn’t respond, Cody put his head on the man’s lap and looked up at him with his sad eyes.
Ashamed of myself, I stood. I started to speak and then didn’t know what to say so I just stood there. Ray’s hand finally found Cody’s head and softly scratched the dog’s ears. Seeing Ray with Cody in this tender moment made my heart sink a bit within my chest. For the first time, I realized how lonely Ray was and I could empathize.