There was a small shrug underneath the pile of blankets that Eli had bunched around her, but Neva did not turn her head. Lynn pushed her way through the snow to stand by her side. The ground around the small pile of rocks had been cleared of fresh snow, swept clean of branches and debris.
“That’ll be pointless in about two days.”
“Then I’ll clear it again.”
Lynn sighed and sat down uninvited. Neva had changed too, since Lynn had met her, but for the worse. Despite the many layers of blankets and clothing, it was easy to see there was little left of her but bone and skin. A flash of pale showed between her coat cuff and mittens, and Lynn could see that her wrists were tiny, almost as small as Lucy’s. Her dark eyes were sunken, the circles underneath them lending to the thought that they might recede entirely into her skull. Even so, she was still alarmingly beautiful.
“So what now? We sit here trying to stop the snow from hitting the ground?”
“You don’t have any children, do you?” Neva didn’t turn when she spoke to Lynn but kept her eyes riveted on the grave.
“No.”
“That man that comes here, the cripple. Is he your family?”
“No, just a friend.”
“Do you have any family?”
“No. Mother was killed this past fall.” Lynn answered evenly, trusting her voice to stay strong. “She was all I had. I was injured and it was too difficult to put her in the ground by myself. I had to burn her.”
Neva was silent for a while, eyes focused on the ground at her feet. “I’m sorry for that,” she eventually said. “And I never thanked you for helping bury my son.”
Lynn had no response. They stared at the pile of stones together in silence.
“You’ve still got family left,” Lynn ventured. “Your Lucy, she loves you. Eli wants to take care of you.”
“My Lucy,” Neva repeated, her hollow voice cracking with emotion. “My poor little Lucy. We never should have tried to leave.”
“She’s all right here. Doing fine, really. She’s gaining weight, likes to play in the snow, her feet healed up real nice.”
“Her feet?”
“She was a mess when I took . . . when Eli gave her to me to take back to the house for a bit. The shoes she was wearing were way too small.”
A bitter smile cracked Neva’s dry lips apart. “See? That’s what kind of mother I am. My little girl was hobbling around the countryside starving.”
“She’s all right now, though.”
“Because she’s with you.”
“I do the best I can—but I’m no mother.”
Neva didn’t answer. Lynn wanted to reach out and shake her, but she was afraid it might cause real damage to the frail body. “She’s worried about you.”
Neva grimaced. “We’re out in the wild and she’s the one worried about me. She’s all I have left and I am completely incapable of taking care of her out here.”
It was Lynn’s turn to be silent and stare at the ground.
“She’s much better off with you,” Neva added.
“A little while longer,” Lynn said. “I’ll keep her a little while longer, but I want you to try. She’s your daughter, not mine.”
Lynn got to her feet. “C’mon, that’s enough of this. Eli’s been making himself crazy thinking about you out here freezing by yourself.”
“I’m sure he has. He’s always been chivalrous.”
“I don’t know what that means. Now, am I going to have to move you, or are you going to move yourself?”
For the first time, Neva turned her head and looked at Lynn. “I’ll move myself, thank you,” she said. Her knees nearly buckled when she stood, but she waved Lynn away and steadied herself. They walked toward the little house together, Lynn pacing herself slowly so that Neva could keep up.
“I know about what those men did to you,” Lynn said hesitantly. “It was wrong.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I brought you something, in case anyone tries that again.”
Lynn reached into her coat and brought out a small derringer that she had taken from the gun trunk, which fit neatly into the palm of her hand.
“It’s a single shot, but it would do the trick at a short distance. I figured my shotgun would knock you on your ass, and the rifle takes some skill to fire. Even most of the handguns I have got a kick to ’em. But this one will take a man down, if he’s close, or at least scare him off.”
Neva considered the little pearl-handled gun. “Thank you,” she said, reaching for it.
“I’ll show you how to fire it.”
“Thank you,” Neva said again.
“Mother always called that one the whorehouse gun.”
“Charming.”
Eli shot Lynn a grateful glance as Neva walked past him into their home and shut the door behind her.
“How’d you manage that?”
“I really don’t know,” Lynn admitted. “I tried to say what I thought was the right things to her, but it just seemed to make her more angry.”
Eli laughed a little and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, welcome to life with Neva.”
“Well, when I finally said something on purpose to make her angry, that’s when she did what I wanted her to. So, now you know.”
“Guess I’ll have to try that.” Eli wasn’t wearing a coat. His shoulders were hunched reflexively against the chilly breeze, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
“I better go,” Lynn said. “Let you get inside.”
“No, really, it’s okay,” Eli said, although his teeth chattered around the words.
“You have Stebbs’ pack? I’m supposed to take it back to him.”
“Yeah, sure, hold on.” Eli disappeared inside the house. He came back wearing a coat and hat, carrying Stebbs’ empty backpack. “I’ll walk with you a bit.”
“Neva won’t care?”
“She doesn’t mind being alone. I almost think she prefers it. It’s being away from the water that scares her. She’s used to having water come out of a faucet.”
“Lucy said you have to pay for it?”
“It’s expensive, yeah. We are—we were well enough off that we could afford the clean water, a nicer apartment building. People who have less money, their water isn’t as purified—that means clean.”
“Oh, does it?”
“Sorry,” Eli said immediately. “I should know by now that you and Stebbs aren’t exactly stupid. Any girl who can quote Yeats probably knows what ‘purified’ means.”
They walked without talking a few moments more, while Lynn critically assessed Eli’s progress through the bracken. She was torn between wanting to keep him away from the snug sleeping quarters with Neva and wanting to keep herself from being shot in the dark.
“Could you make more of a racket?”
“Sorry,” he said again. “I’m just trying to make a path for you.”
“I’ve been walking in the dark a long time, city boy,” Lynn said. “You best head back home before full dark. Wouldn’t do anybody any good if you get lost out here.” She hated the words even as they slipped past her teeth, sending him back to Neva was much harder than she thought it would be.
“Right, okay.” Eli blew the air out of his cheeks and turned back the way they’d come. “I’ll do my city best to find the only structure out here.”
“Good luck with that,” she called out after him.
His crashing stopped for a moment, but she couldn’t pick out his form in the dying light. “Is that teasing?”
“I thought it was called flirting.”
“You’re a quick learner.”
She could hear the smile on his face even if she couldn’t see it.
“Get out of here,” she called into the darkness. “Stop encouraging me to yell so much out in the middle of nowhere.”
A laugh was the only answer, leaving Lynn to wonder what she’d done that was so funny and reflecting on the fact that he was so noisy she could pick hi
m off at a hundred yards on a moonless night.
She turned toward home and realized that she hadn’t missed it. For the first time in her life, she’d been away from the pond and not been rushing to get back. Worries had fallen away while she talked with Eli, and water hadn’t filled every waking moment.
And she didn’t regret it.
Fourteen
Stebbs was on the roof when she made it back to the house. A pale sliver of moon was rising and she could make out his dark form clambering down the antenna as she emerged from the yard.
“Hey, kiddo,” he called to her. “How’d it go?”
“Well enough. Brought your pack back.”
“They okay over there?”
“Neva’s got problems neither one of us can help her with.”
“That’s true enough.” They walked around the side of the house together. “And Eli? How’s he looking?”
“Fine,” Lynn said nonchalantly. “He got a deer today.”
“Did he? Good boy.”
“Why don’t you come on in?” Lynn said when she saw that Stebbs was headed toward the field as they approached her door. “No point you walking home cold when you can warm up downstairs before going.”
Stebbs rubbed his hands together. “Don’t want to put you out.”
“Doesn’t hurt me for you to soak up some heat.”
Their voices dropped as they entered the basement; Lucy lay curled up in her cot near the fire, her small legs making a neat V shape under her blanket. Lynn checked on her, tucking the folds under the small curves of her body. “She go to sleep okay?”
“Not a contrary word. I told her it was bedtime, and to bed she went. That’s a good little girl.”
“I know it.” Lynn opened the door to the stove so they could see each other in the flickering firelight, and set a pot of water to boil. “I’m having some coffee. You might as well have some too.”
“I don’t know what’s caused this sudden rash of kindness, but I’ll drink your coffee and thanks.”
Lynn fired a harsh look over her shoulder. “I’d kick you if you didn’t have two bad feet right now.”
“The old Lynn would’ve kicked me anyway.”
“The old Lynn’s still in here somewhere, so don’t tempt her.”
Stebbs laughed and propped his foot up on the edge of Lucy’s cot, leaning back to relax. “This isn’t a half-bad place you know? Your mom did a fine job getting you two set up.”
Lynn sat in the chair opposite Stebbs and began dismantling her rifle. “Long as you’re here, I’m going to clean this filthy thing,” she said. “I don’t feel right having a gun in pieces when someone could come down those stairs any minute.”
Stebbs propped his chair back, rested his head against the wall. “Clean away. I’m not going anywhere when there’s coffee brewing.”
“Neva wouldn’t come away from the baby’s grave today.”
“That right?”
“She said she wasn’t capable of caring for Lucy anymore either, and that she’s better off with me.”
“At the moment, it’s true.”
“I think she meant forever.”
“How’d you feel about that?”
Lynn threaded a wad of cotton through the ramrod before answering. “Not so good, really. I mean, I don’t want to give her up just yet. But she’s not mine to keep either.”
“True.”
“I think a girl should be with her mother.”
“I do too,” Stebbs said. “That particular mother isn’t in any shape to care for her daughter as of yet, though.”
“I know it,” Lynn said, and shoved the ramrod down the barrel. “Is that why you took it on yourself to care for them? ’Cause you don’t have family?”
Stebbs blinked at the straightforward question.
“Sorry,” Lynn said quickly. “Never mind.”
“It’s all right. Wasn’t expecting it, is all. Where’s all this coming from, sudden-like?”
“Neva talking to me about Lucy and her baby that’s gone. She asked me if you’re my family.”
“And you told her?”
“I told her you aren’t.” Lynn critically inspected the cleanliness of her cotton before continuing. “I don’t mind you so much though anymore.”
“Thanks for the kind words. You’re all right yourself.”
Lynn poured them both some coffee and went back to cleaning her rifle without responding. Stebbs warmed his hands around his cup and watched her a few moments. “There’s lots of reasons why I help them. Part of it’s, yes, ’cause I don’t have anybody. But I haven’t always done the right thing in my past, and this seems a good a way as any to make up for it.”
“Can’t imagine you doing something terribly wrong,” Lynn said, eyes still on her work.
“There’s different ways of doing things wrong, Lynn, and not all of it is choosing to hurt others. Sometimes it’s the things you don’t do that make you feel the worst.”
“All right then, what’d you not do that was so awful?”
“How much do you know about your daddy?”
Lynn’s hands stopped moving and she glanced up at Stebbs. “Not much. Mother wouldn’t really talk about him. All I know is, by the time I got here he’d been gone awhile.”
“Does the word militia mean anything to you?”
“Are you telling a story or asking me questions?”
Stebbs took a drink of his coffee and settled back in his chair. “If you want to hear it, I’ll tell it.”
Lynn changed the cotton in her ramrod and kept working on the barrel. “I’m sitting here listening.”
“Your daddy was part of the militia. That’s not the regular army that the government was in charge of, you understand? There was a chain of command, and weapons, and we would drill much like the proper army, but everything was voluntary, and everyone was local. Sometimes we attracted people who the army wouldn’t have for whatever reason. Could be they had asthma or didn’t graduate from high school. But sometimes, we’d get the other kind, that the regular army wouldn’t take ’cause they couldn’t pass the psych exam. Meaning they weren’t quite right, up here.” Stebbs tapped his temple. “Your daddy, he was part of that last half.”
Lynn thought about Mother. Had she wondered how much of Father’s instability had rubbed off on her in the end? And how much of his insanity was inside of Lynn, passed on through the blood or Mother’s teachings? Lynn thought of the people she’d dropped in the fields, thirsty men and women she’d killed without hesitation. Was that because of her father’s priorities, instilled in her so young? Or was that who she truly was—a smaller, female version of him who took life without regret?
Stebbs was watching her, and she felt her mouth tightening into a thin line under his gaze. “I’ve known lots of people in my life, Lynn,” he said. “There’s plenty of good seed sown by the bad.”
She cleared her throat, and changed the subject. “You were militia, too?”
Stebbs nodded and moved on. “I was regular army once upon a time, but my convoy got hit by an IED during the Second War for Oil and they sent me home ’cause my hand wouldn’t work just right after that.” Stebbs held up his left hand, showing Lynn how it wouldn’t close properly. “I can’t use my index and middle finger for nothing.”
“So you became militia?”
“Once you’ve been in that kind of situation, you don’t come back normal. I still wanted that lifestyle, and the militia was the only way to get it.”
“That how you met Mother?”
“I’d known your mother before. See, Lynn, even before the Shortage there weren’t a lot of people around here. To you, it would seem like a lot, but as far as the rest of the world was concerned we were as rural as it got. Your mom’s family, they’d lived here a long time—in this house even—and mine had been around this area for a while too.”
“Was she family to you?”
Stebbs looked at her sideways. “You don’t know much about her, d
o you?”
“She didn’t talk about herself.”
“Well, that’s not surprising, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Well, your mom—her family—they did okay. They wasn’t rich, but they had enough to get by and then some, which was doing pretty good around here, especially during them times, after the Second War for Oil. Nobody had any money, and there wasn’t jobs anywhere either. Our militia started filling out.”
“Why’s that?”
“Lots of people were unhappy. They was mad at the government about the war, and about the fact that there was no money and no jobs. People always gotta have someone to blame, you see? People without jobs got nothing to do, and they feel like they’re not doing anything for their families. Some of them thought the only thing they could do was learn how to protect them, keep them safe. Crime was up; everyone was desperate. People started breaking into houses and cars for money, sometimes even just for food.
“Your mom’s family though, they didn’t have to worry about money too much, even in the bad times. They was good people, nice enough to give to others, and maybe their good will was part of what kept them safe from the robberies. But Lauren—that’s your mom’s name, you know—she was always a little skeptical about people, even then, and she came to me to learn about how to use a gun.”
“How old was she?”
“Oh, she was a bit older than you. Out of college, and all.”
“She was older than I am and didn’t know how to shoot a gun?”
“It was a different time, kiddo. Feels like a different place, even.” Stebbs took another drink of coffee, looking down into the depths for a moment. “Anyway, she started coming around, careful like, ’cause she knew her family wouldn’t care for it if she was hanging out with us roughnecks. That’s how she met your daddy.
“He wasn’t quite right, like I said. A few of the guys would rather walk through the mud to steer clear of him than pass close by. He was always looking for a fight and knew how to start one even if there was no reason. But he was a charmer too, and better-looking than what the women around here was used to seeing. He got around a bit, I can tell you that.”
Lynn blushed at the reference and moved to cleaning the bolt she’d removed from the rifle, keeping her eyes down.
Not a Drop to Drink Page 13