Seasons: A Year in the Apocalypse

by E A Lake

  “If that ice storm hadn’t taken down all these branches,” she said, sounding a little short on breath, “this would still be a pretty neat place.”

  I began to trot the last few yards, disagreeing with her even if just in my own mind. This spot was the neatest place on Earth to me. At least for now.

  Walker’s smile was what kept me going. No matter what, no matter how bad the time in between, every eighth day, his smile renewed my hope.

  “Hey Ma,” he drawled, removing his orange stocking cap as I reached through the fencing to touch him. “How are you? You look good.”

  He kissed my hands, and I drew his back through the fence and dried my tears with the backs of them, kissing them over and over.

  “I’m good, Son. Better now. How was this past bit?”

  He shrugged. “It was fine. We been busy with planting, lately. But I suppose you have too.” He looked past me, and his grin broadened. “Hey, Sunshine. How ya doing?”

  She came closer to the fence, reaching through and stroking his plaid shirt. “I’m good, Walker. Real good. You look pretty good yourself.”

  He shifted from foot to foot, staring at the ground, embarrassed by Sunshine’s obvious attention. Though I saw it as always—a lame attempt at affection.

  “Well, you know,” Walker continued, his voice cracking slightly. “They work us hard, but they feed us good. Lask says I’m getting to be a man now. Getting real muscles and all. He claims it’s from all the hard work and good food.”

  Forcing my way closer, nudging Sunshine aside, I took his hands again. “You are getting to be a man. You’ll be fifteen this summer.”

  His face screwed up as he chuckled. “Oh, Ma, I’m already fifteen. I’ll be sixteen next month.”

  I knew at that moment how mothers must have felt who sent their sons to war in former days. Always, they would be the age they were when they left. Even when they returned—taller, stronger, with a deeper voice and hollow eyes—they would still be the same age.

  “You’ll be ready for a woman when you get out of there,” Sunshine offered in a flirty tone. “The younger gals will be flocking to the house in droves when they see what you’ve become.”

  Walker blushed noticeably, looking down at first and then back at my friend. “Hopefully you’ll still be around, Sunshine?”

  I felt a tic gnawing at my face.

  “She’s twenty-six, Son,” I inserted, trying to sound pleasant. This flirting had been going on for the past half-dozen visits or so. “She’s too old for you.”

  “I’m twenty-two,” Sunshine coldly replied from beside me. “You always mess that up, Abby. I was born two years after this shit, not before.”

  She sounded upset, as though I’d intentionally inflated her age. I turned to address her quietly.

  “Sunshine, you know I didn’t mean anything,” I stated in a quiet tone. “Please don’t be upset with me. Let’s just enjoy our time with Walker—”

  “Hey, Lask,” Walker said, bringing our faces and attention back to his side of the fence.

  Along the enclosure, as if he were coming from the main house, Mr. Lasky approached. He nodded at Walker and tipped his hat at us.

  “Ladies,” he said. “Nicer day than yesterday. Glad to see you enjoying the weather.”

  No one said anything as a muted darkness settled in. The presence of another made our personal talk hard to spit out. The questions I had for my son, the things I needed to tell him, could wait. They were barely Sunshine’s business. In no way were they Mr. Lasky’s.

  “If you gals wouldn’t mind,” Mr. Lasky continued, “Mr. Hulton would like a word with you. You can catch up with Luke later on.”

  I felt a scowl growing on my face as my stomach tightened into a knot. “His name is Walker, Mr. Lasky. Please refrain from calling him anything but that.”

  Sneering at me and then Sunshine, he snickered before answering.

  “Mr. Hulton wants him called Luke. If he wanted him called Sally, I’d call him Sally. If he wanted him called Jesus, I’d call him Jesus. Hell, if he wanted him called Slave 15…” He paused and leaned nearer to me, staring through the fence. “I’d call him Slave 15.”

  He glanced back at Walker. “Run along, Luke; you can visit with your mother and her friend later on. You two follow me over to the main gate. Let’s go see Mr. Hulton.”

  Chapter 10

  We watched Mr. Lasky open the large silver padlock with a key and heard the chain rattle as he unwrapped it from the fence.

  “No being too safe,” he said, redoing the process once we were inside. “Gotta keep the riff-raff out. They’d rob us blind.”

  The loose gravel crunched under our shoes as we made our way toward the main house. It was really rather nondescript, brown, flat and long. The once-colorful outbuildings, last painted bright reds and yellows perhaps ten years back, stood silently beyond the single-level dwelling.

  Somewhere behind the main barn, down a small slope, was the bunkhouse where Walker lived. He pointed toward it almost every time I visited, never tiring of the same stupid questions. I wondered if there was an armed guard at every entrance of that building or was the hired help more expendable?

  “Still don’t see why I had to come,” Sunshine grumbled, kicking at the gravel. “I could have just waited outside the fence for Abigail to return. I ain’t got no business with a man like Hulton.”

  In front of us, Mr. Lasky turned slightly and shook his head. “Because the boss said so, that’s why.”

  We passed a guard who opened a side door for us and nodded as we crept past. At least his employees had decent manners. Everything inside and out on the property was cleaned up and in good working order.

  We followed our guide down a hall and turned into a large open room. I had been to Mr. Hulton’s office several times in the past. This was not that; this was more of a large living room.

  “Looks like a ballroom,” Sunshine whispered next to me. “How is it we’re barely existing and this guy lives high on the hog?”

  I tried to shush her with a finger to my lips. “He’s very enterprising,” I replied in a quiet voice. “We can talk about it later.”

  A man rose from a chair across the room, and at first, all I could see was his back. When he turned, I saw his smile, his somewhat handsome face sporting a graying goatee and short salt-and-pepper hair.

  “He gets better looking every time I see him,” Sunshine muttered, keeping her voice low.

  “Mrs. Turner,” he boomed, halfway to us, “and Miss Jones. How lovely to see you again.”

  I nodded and tried to give what I hoped came across as a gracious smile. Sunshine gave him a small curtsy—at least, I think that’s what she did.

  Reaching out to shake my hand, he smiled broadly. “Please, you must come sit on the couch with me. I insist.” He even went as far as to take my elbow and guide me across the room. When I turned to urge Sunshine along, I noticed Mr. Lasky’s hand on her shoulder, steering her the same direction.

  We sat stiffly on the ornate mahogany-and-suede couch, Sunshine to my left and Mr. Lasky to my right. Before us was a coffee table that I assumed never saw so much as a piece of paper.

  “So,” the man of the castle began, “Lask tells me you did well with getting the corn in. Well done, ladies; well done. It’s important that you beat the rain and got it all planted at once. That means it will pollinate at the same time and be ready for harvest.”

  He smiled and nodded at me. I certainly hoped he didn’t expect a response. I wasn’t sure what Mr. Lasky had told him. But I for one was not about to offer anything that might contradict what had already been said.

  “Now…” His face dimmed. “On a less-happy matter. I’m afraid I’m going to have to add six weeks onto Luke’s contract.”

  I felt my mouth drop open and what little color my face might have held drop. Sliding forward, I thought about touching the man’s hands but decided against it, for now.

  “What random event has happen
ed to bring this on?” I asked in a tone that most likely sounded more demanding than I had a right to be with my host. “Has Luke, I mean Walker, misbehaved or something?”

  “No,” he answered with the shake of his head. “It has to do with the rather unfortunate incident in your garden the other day. My man had to shoot three times to fight off your attacker. Ammunition is hard to come by—it’s not cheap. So, two weeks for each bullet means another month and a half. I’m sure you understand, Mrs. Turner.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent myself from screaming or lashing out at the dictator. I felt someone next to me rise.

  “This is bullshit!” Sunshine shouted, thrusting a finger at Mr. Hulton. “Old Tommy Hot Finger on the Trigger over there got the job done with one shot. He just shot the guy two more times because he’s such an asshole.”

  Letting a shallow breath out between pursed lips, I tugged on the back of Sunshine’s shirt. In front of her, our host seemed unoffended.

  “You’re unhappy with the protection Mr. Lasky provided you with?” he asked, standing slowly. “Perhaps one of you would have been able to defuse the situation had he not been there? Is that what you’re saying, Miss Jones, Mrs. Turner? Is my help no longer required in your neck of the woods?”

  With my hands in front of me as if I were praying, I stared at our host.

  “All Sunshine is saying, Mr. Hulton,” I begged, “is that maybe overkill was used in this situation. Perhaps we could compromise. Say three weeks additional?”

  He considered my proposal for a moment before softening his stance. I knew my method of applying liberal amounts of kindness to tense situations would win out. At least, I hoped it would.

  Chapter 11

  We returned home with our heads hung low. At least mine was. Sunshine had other thoughts.

  “Girl, let me tell you what a sweet negotiator you are,” she squealed. “I thought he had you, but I gotta admit, you sure came out on top.”

  I tried ignoring her, but the constant pokes she shot in my side made that hard.

  “Let’s just be happy it’s not the full six weeks,” I replied, looking ahead at the farmhouse.

  “Oh no. Not you. You wasn’t about to take that sitting down.” She danced in front of me, shadow boxing with herself. “Not Abigail Turner, not Walker Turner’s momma. No ma’am. You got him all the way down to five weeks. Never seen anything like it. You should be a judge.”

  It was one week fewer than he had insisted upon, so I felt as though I won a little. Not much—as Sunshine so eloquently pointed out—but a little.

  We found fresh cheese and biscuits on our back porch when we returned. Mr. Frederickson’s wife—known to us only as Mrs. Frederickson—must have sensed how desperate we were for good things to eat. Mother’s intuition, I decided.

  At the bottom of our care packet was a small sealed glass jar. When Sunshine spun the top off and tasted the contents, a satisfied smile came to her lips.

  “Jam,” she beamed. “Rassberry, I think.”

  I cringed at her mispronunciation of the word but decided to hold my tongue. Instead, I too sampled the jam. Whatever it was it tasted delicious and disappeared with the half-dozen biscuits and half of the cheese.

  By late afternoon, we were napping on the two worn sofas that took up most of the living room. Anyone else might have considered them dingy, perhaps unfit for human use. Compared to the rest of our dwelling, they fit in fine.

  The sun was low in the western sky when I finally arose from my nap and stood at the window, considering our garden. Mostly, I fought back frustrated feelings.

  The garden planting would get done; that was the least of my concerns. I wasn’t happy with the extra five weeks added to Walker’s contract. But that was that. We counted on Mr. Hulton and his crew for protection amongst many other things. Five weeks wouldn’t kill me. Five months…

  Leaning my head against the coolish window, I closed my eyes. “Where the hell are you, Brady?” I whispered, if only to myself. “And where the hell is my daughter?”

  Chapter 12

  When I awoke early the next morning, I heard the rain on the window. Rolling over, pulling the covers up to my chin, I noticed Sunshine staring at me. I awaited whatever clever advice she had for me.

  “Don’t worry about it, Abby,” she whispered, stroking my cheek. “We’ll get that garden in. Come hell or high water, we’ll get it done this week.”

  I listened as the rain intensified. High water it was. Hell we had plenty of already.

  Two days passed before we got at it again, it being the planting of our garden and Mr. Hulton’s corn. Though our feet were caked in mud within minutes of walking into the turned soil, it wasn’t too wet to plant.

  We made good progress throughout the morning. Of course, we started shortly after sunup, so by noonish we had better have made decent progress.

  “Fourteen rows planted,” Sunshine called out after counting them twice. “Six more to go. By later this afternoon, we should be planting our own food.”

  I nodded my agreement, wiping sweat from my brow. While we were making good progress, I wanted at least all of the corn in before any prying eyes might come along.

  The sloshing of Sunshine’s waterlogged shoes came closer.

  “You wanna break for some lunch now?” she asked in a tone that told me it was more of a request then a question.

  I scanned the northwestern horizon for movement. “Just a quick bite. I want to make sure we have the corn in before anyone might ride by.”

  We turned in unison toward the house. “Lasky or Hulton?” Sunshine asked.

  “Neither,” I answered, hustling my friend along by her elbow. “I don’t want a lecture from anyone today. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Well, I ain’t ever in the mood for that. Course, I don’t let no man walk all over me like they do you.”

  I stopped and glared at her. “Take it back,” I demanded. “Take it back now.”

  Setting her hands on her hips, she grinned. “They got a ring through your nose, and any time they want to see you jump, they just jerk the chain.”

  I pushed her shoulder as she turned to leave. “I’m waiting. You owe me an apology. Friends don’t talk to one another like that.”

  She nodded twice and glanced down. Taking my hands, Sunshine pinched the skin on the backs of both. “Yeah, but sisters do.”

  Tearing my hands away only caused her to run. That was fine. It was good once in a while to be reminded I was still alive. That someone loved me like the sister I never had. Even a sister from another world.

  We sat on the back step, eating the last of our Amish-made crackers and cheese, when we heard the first sounds. I looked at Sunshine, her dark eyes glued on the road. I noticed her lips were as tight as mine felt.

  “Might be Amish,” she whispered. “Or maybe it was one of the neighbors from the north. That older boy rides past here just after noontime a couple days a week. I think he’s sweet on the Reynolds girl—”

  Her breath caught at the same moment as mine. It was Lasky’s horse. In the saddle rode an upset-looking Jeremy Lasky.

  “Time to get our daily ration of shit,” Sunshine said, patting my knee as she rose. “Let’s get this over with so we can get the rest of our stuff planted by sunset.”

  I gawked at her as she pulled open the old screen door, sans most of its screen. This was not what I wanted to deal with. Not now.

  Chapter 13

  “There’s a reason our instructions to you is to get all the corn planted within twenty-four hours of delivery,” our persecutor lectured. “You want to know what that is?”

  I shook my head slowly without looking up. “No,” I answered, sounding as if I didn’t care, which I didn’t any longer.

  “Well, I sure as hell don’t,” Sunshine scolded.

  Stepping forward, hunching over, his scowling face came within inches of hers. “Because those are the rules,” he growled. “We got the heirloom seeds, we supply them to y
ou, we give you food for your efforts. And we get to make all the rules. And if you two don’t deem it important to follow those rules, well you can just starve to death for all I care.”

  Sunshine opened her mouth to fire back a comment that I was sure wouldn’t help, so I stopped her with a hand to her chest.

  “We’re sorry, Mr. Lasky,” I sighed. “We’ll have everything done today, and no one but us will be any the wiser.”

  His dark narrowed eyes turned toward me. “I ain’t covering for you again,” he snarled. “Put my butt on the line, and if I get it bit off, I’ll come looking for someone’s ass to chew apart after that.”

  “I never asked you to lie for us, Mr. Lasky,” I replied, trying to sound more sweet than pathetic. “Did I?”

  His lips loosened slightly. “I figured with the extra time getting added onto Luke’s contract, you had enough to swallow for one day. Adding Hulton’s wrath on top of that just wouldn’t be right—not in my way of thinking.”

  I nodded, giving him an actual smile, showing some of my grayed teeth. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  His face lightened to a grin; the compliment worked.

  “I ain’t your friend, lady. I ain’t nobody’s friend.” His grin became more sardonic. “I work for a man that expects results. When he doesn’t get the results he wants, he don’t waste his time going after some pissants like you and Sunshine here. No, he comes after me—with both barrels.”

  He stepped between Sunshine and myself, his eyes swinging from one to another. “Rickard Hulton ain’t my friend, he ain’t your friend, he ain’t no one’s friend. And that means none of us is friends, got it?”

  His last words nearly covered Sunshine and me in spit. Somewhere in the middle of the tirade, we had joined hands, and I was squeezing hers nearly as tightly as she was mine.