Seasons: A Year in the Apocalypse

by E A Lake

  “What was the high yesterday, again?” I asked, most of the bitterness gone from my voice.

  “Sixteen below,” she answered immediately. “So it’s warmer today than yesterday. That’s good.”

  I drew a circle on the glass where my breath had steamed it over. “Not good enough,” I whispered. “We’d last ten minutes outside, even all bundled up. Maybe not even that long.”

  “We’re gonna be okay, Abby. We’re gonna make it.”

  I felt a tiny smile cross my lips. Somewhere, our roles had become reversed. Where before I’d found light around every corner, I now saw nothing but darkness. Sunshine, on the other hand, was living up to her name.

  “Tell me when you want to eat our last meal,” I said, slumping into the bedroom. “It doesn’t matter to me when it is. As far as I’m concerned, you can have my portion. I’m through with this. All of this.”

  I climbed under the covers, fully clothed including outerwear, a hat, a scarf, and gloves. Finally, I was warm again. It was a good way to die.

  Later the next afternoon, sometime just before sunset, I heard scraping by our back door. While I should have gone and investigated, I didn’t want to pull back the heavy fabric cordoning off the cold air that would rush in from the dining room.

  I listened as the sound continued, followed by the back door opening and slamming closed immediately after. If someone was breaking in to steal our supplies, they were going to be terribly disappointed.

  “Holy shit!” a man’s voice shouted. “It’s colder in here than it is outside. What the hell are you two doing?”

  Well, I knew it wasn’t Mr. Frederickson.

  “Is that Lasky?” Sunshine shouted.

  “Well, it sure as hell ain’t Santa Claus,” he replied, sounding madder than ever. “Get your sorry asses out here and help me unload. I’ll be waiting outside, where I can warm up a little.”

  I wasn’t sure what he had brought us—what needed unloading—but I was willing to brave the cold to find out.

  Sunshine sprinted past me, pulling the blanket down as she dashed from the living room. I guess she was more anxious than me to see if we’d live another week or two.

  Poking at the fire in the dining area, Mr. Lasky glared at the small flames.

  “Damn chimney probably needs cleaning,” he groused. His eyes rose and found mine. “You ever had that done since you moved in?”

  I shrugged; that was Brady’s department. I cooked and did the wash; he did all the household repairs and maintenance. It had worked well… for a while.

  “I swear you don’t know nothing about nothing,” he continued. “We get it done every spring over at Hulton’s place. You know you can get chimney fires if they aren’t cleaned every once in a while?”

  I thought about shrugging again but decided it would look juvenile. “I’ll make a note of it.” Not that I had any paper or pencils left. They’d been burned to ash two days prior.

  Sunshine appeared in the doorway, offering me a spoonful of what appeared to be canned peaches. They were the most wonderful thing I had ever tasted.

  “Remind me again,” I said to our savior. “Why did Mr. Hulton send you over?”

  I noticed his lips screw round and round as he stood, towering over me. “Because Mrs. Hulton told Mr. Hulton that I should. I already told you that.”

  He wasn’t very nice about it, but I suppose if I had to ride a half mile in an open wagon on a cold, breezy day, I would have been a little snarky myself.

  Yet…

  “Yes, you mentioned that. But what caused Mrs. Hulton to feel the need to send over a wagon full of wood and four large boxes filled to the brim with food? That’s what you haven’t answered, Mr. Lasky.”

  His face went tight. “Because she’s that kind of lady. That’s all you need to know.”

  But there was more; I could see it in his face. He was holding something back.

  “And…?” I asked, crossing my arms, waiting for his reply.

  “She saw your little escapade last week,” he grumbled. “A pair of losers, pulling a cart, stopping to rest every five feet.”

  “We have no energy, Mr. Lasky,” I countered. “We’re malnourished.”

  “We all saw it,” he continued. “Mrs. Hulton was in tears. Said her husband needed to help. He balked at first, but by the time it was snowing, he wanted his wife off his ass. By the next morning, he told me what to bring over and to get it done once the weather cleared. So here I am.”

  I tried to smile, but I was too tired to even muster that much emotion. “Well, be sure to thank her for her kindness towards us, Mr. Lasky.”

  He moved closer. “You know what I think?”

  I swallowed hard, not wanting to hear what was on his grizzled mind. “I don’t believe I do,” I answered meekly.

  “You’re pathetic,” he seethed. “The both of you. You’re what’s wrong with this world.”

  I found it hard to breathe, hearing his harsh opinion. I knew what we were; I guess I’d always hoped others didn’t see us in the same light.

  “I’m sorry we disappoint you, Mr. Lasky,” I murmured.

  “We’re trying,” Sunshine added, nowhere near as spunkily as she usually addressed her nemesis. “It’s hard, though.”

  He glared at us both, first me then Sunshine. Shaking his head, he made his way to the back door.

  “Try harder,” he said. “Either that or give up. People like you need to be able to produce whatever they need. Or they need to die. Which one is it going to be, Mrs. Turner? You gonna quit like I think you are?”

  I felt Sunshine snake an arm through mine. “She ain’t a quitter,” she answered for me.

  I saw a grin form on the man’s lips. “Well then, make good of what Mr. Hulton sent over because there ain’t gonna be any more handouts. Get your sorry asses to the Amish store.”

  He paused, there was something else. “Or get over to Hulton’s and strike a deal regarding Luke. He ain’t gonna have a mother no more if you’re dead. So think about that, too.”

  The door closed, and I heard him pull it tight. Somberly, I considered our alternatives. Winter had hardly arrived. The new wood and food might last us a month. We could get another six weeks of food, if we could make our way to the store, and there was more wood about a mile south.

  After that…

  “Don’t even think about signing Walker away to that bastard,” Sunshine said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you even give that a second’s thought, Abigail.”

  But I wasn’t sure there was any other choice remaining.

  Chapter 67

  Cold, blustery days passed. We ate, remained warm, and generally enjoyed life, as much as we could enjoy life while a large anvil hung over our heads. At least we weren’t facing imminent death.

  But, and I knew this was a large issue, we still needed to solve the long-term problem of living. I figured we’d head south and get more wood during the next warm stretch. After that we could make a trip to the Amish store to get what we could from there.

  Our new food source allowed our strength to be rebuilt. Sunshine and I were finally nourished where a week ago we had been close to dying perhaps. We’d even gone as far as to venture outside several times and collect small amounts of fallen wood.

  At best, we could scrounge up enough to last three more months. That might, at best, get us to spring – early spring. How much winter was left of winter was unknown. That was the problem that hung over me like my own personal rain cloud.

  The worst part was Sunshine knew it as well.

  “Come up with a different idea,” Sunshine said during dinner one night. “Something besides signing my man away for another year or two.”

  Her tone was flat; her face was evil. I’d hinted at my thoughts for the past week. She read into them every time I spoke. Most of the time, she was right.

  “What other options do we have?” I asked, sounding as exasperated as I felt. Desperate was probably a better description.
<
br />   Her eyes darted left and then right. When they came back to me, her eyebrows rose.

  “You need a man,” she replied, pleased with herself.

  I laughed and leaned away from the table, crossing my arms. “Be serious, Sunshine.”

  She leapt from her spot, chasing to my side. “I am, Abby. I am.” She grabbed my arms. “You’re still a woman, albeit a scrawny one.”

  I tried to pull my arms free, but she squeezed tighter.

  “Lasky wants you,” she pled. “I see it in his eyes every time he comes by. You just got to give him a little sign, and life will turn around.”

  Rolling my eyes, I snorted. “Be serious, Sunshine. He despises my mere existence on the planet. You have a ten times better chance with Walker than I do with Jeremy Lasky. I’d have as much chance with him as I would if I could find Brady now. Nothing is there between us. Not one single…”

  The mention of either Walker’s or Brady’s name caused her to back away, as if she were thinking of something else.

  “What is it?” I asked, almost afraid of her answer.

  Stroking her chin with her right hand, she paced on the far side of the table. It was my turn to rise.

  “Sunshine?” I eked. My heart raced as she waved off my words.

  “I gotta tell you something,” she replied quietly. “But I gotta figure out how to tell you.”

  I raced to her side. “Tell me what?” I was breathless. She held a secret, and here I always thought there were none between us.

  She peeked back at me, the whites of her eyes almost hidden by her narrowed lids.

  “About me and Walker,” she stated. “There’s more there than you think.”

  I gasped aloud. What was she saying?

  For her tale to be told, she insisted we sit together on the couch nearest the fire. She wanted to be warm, or so she said. I wondered if she didn’t want me tackling and pummeling her after what she had to tell me.

  “We’re a little closer than you think, Abby,” she began, fidgeting as she spoke.

  I moved my head forward, searching for her eyes. She couldn’t lie straight to my face. We both knew it.

  “Define closer,” I said, turning her chin to face me.

  “We was…” Her hesitancy made my stomach queasy. “We was close. In a special kind of way. You know.”

  I went from frightened mother to concerned parent in a heartbeat.

  “A special way,” I repeated, watching her nod. “That’s a little vague, Sunshine. Why don’t you go on?”

  She licked her lips before trying to smile. Oh, this was going to be interesting.

  Chapter 68

  Apparently, she thought she could stall and give me the silent treatment. Perhaps she felt I’d crack first. However, I was prepared to wait the rest of the winter, sitting on the couch, waiting for Sunshine to spill the beans as to what had gone on between her and my son.

  Finally, I had to break the silence. “I’m still waiting for an explanation, Sunshine.” That was as much as I cared to give in. She, after all, had the story to tell.

  “You see,” she began, half smiling, half choking. “It started the summer before last. When Walker had grown so much.” She looked at me, grinning.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s nature, Abby. Boys and girls and stuff.” If she thought that helped, she was dead wrong. She had a lot more explaining to do.

  I crossed my arm tight on my chest. “Nature, you say.”

  She nodded and continued grinning. “He was getting so handsome,” she continued. “And I had a little more shape to me back then. He noticed.”

  My hand went to my temples and began to squeeze. Oh… good… Lord.

  “You and Brady sent him and me to the Amish store several times. It was almost like you were encouraging us.”

  “Hardly,” I spat. “I sent the two of you to the store for supplies. Not anything else. And by anything, I mean nothing else.”

  She shrugged and snickered. Whatever that meant couldn’t have been good.

  “We started by holding hands,” she confessed. “Then one time on the way back, we stopped by that pond between us and the store. The sun was glimmering off the water so pretty like. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and the next thing I know, he leans in and kisses me… right on the damn lips, much less.

  “I was a little startled at first. Maybe I kissed back; I don’t really recall.” She stopped and twisted her lips briefly. “Then all of a sudden, his hands were on my boobs, all grabby like.”

  My formerly queasy stomach was in my throat. I wanted to strangle her but didn’t want to dispose of the body. So I encouraged her continue.

  “And you fought him off, of course,” I inserted, watching for her reaction.

  Her grin grew. “I ain’t ever been touched by someone kissing me and whispering sweet things in my ear,” she giggled. “As far as I knew, we were supposed to do the dirty right there.”

  My body shook with rage. “But you didn’t, did you? Do it?” I wasn’t a prude, but this was Walker she was speaking of.

  She waved off my concern with the flip of a wrist. “Hell, no!” I instantly felt better.

  “Not that time, at least,” she added.

  Oh… my… Lord!

  I felt short of breath. My vision began to swim, and for a moment, I thought I might pass out. Sunshine stared at me.

  “Are you all right, Abby?” she asked, doing a great job of faking her concern. “Do you want me to run and grab you a cup of cool water or something?”

  I considered the or something. Perhaps a sharp knife to slit her throat or a hammer to bash in her skull. It may have seemed dramatic, but not to me, not in the moment.

  “No,” I replied, patting her hands. “I’m fine. You were just about to tell me how you seduced and molested my son. Please go on.”

  She looked shocked. Sunshine Jones, philanderer with young teen boys, actually looked as though I’d said something that wasn’t justified.

  “He’s the one who snuck into my bedroom the first time and got all feely and pokey in bed,” she countered. “I was still an innocent woman until that night. I didn’t know what he was going to do.” She paused; something seemed stuck in her memory. “But let me tell you, Abby. That boy of yours sure knew what he wanted to accomplish. And he was good, really good.”

  “You’re bragging about Walker’s sexual prowess to his mother?” I shrieked. “Have you no shame? Why didn’t you try to stop him? Why didn’t you fight him off?” I leapt to my feet. “Why in God’s name didn’t you tell me about this before now?”

  She glanced at me and grinned. “Because he and I both knew that you’d overreact, just like you are.”

  “Because he’s my son, Sunshine!” I thought my eardrums were going to explode. If my blood pressure went any higher, I might have had a stroke. “You and my son had sex… in my home, no less. While I slept downstairs with my daughter between Brady and me.”

  She glared at me for a moment and then looked away. “How would you expect me to react? Do you want me to tell you how proud I am of you for deflowering my child? How happy I am for you that he fulfilled your sexual needs?”

  Her head was shaking at something I’d said. “I wasn’t his first,” Sunshine stated, almost sounding disappointed.

  My eyes began to blur, either with tears or with blood.

  “What?” I shouted. “What?”

  “No. He and Isabella Sanford done it the summer before.” She looked like it wasn’t a big news story… to her perhaps. “Almost every day of rest when you and Brady and her folks sat around talking about farming and shit like that, they went on some long walks, he told me. They did it all the time. Sometimes two or three times a visit.”

  Gasping for breaths, I tugged on my hair. I remembered the family well. They were our neighbors for two years, until their crops completely failed the second year and they decided to find greener pastures.

  Isabella was unimpressive. There was nothing to
her: body, mind, or soul. She certainly wasn’t good enough for my son.

  “Isabella Sanford was a homely, dull, shapeless little girl,” I replied in an even pace. “She had nothing to offer Walker. Nothing, I tell you.”

  Sunshine nodded. “That’s what Walker pretty much said about her, too. But there was one thing she was good at. Wanna guess?”

  I held out both hands. “For the love of God, please—”

  “Bumping uglies,” she continued. “She liked it. She liked it a lot, according to Walker. Apparently, she’d done it with quite a few of the local boys. At least, that’s what Walker told me.”

  “Walker was thirteen years old,” I stated, my shoulders slumping forward with my head. “That little tramp Isabella was a year or two older. I wondered if they should be spending so much time alone together. But Brady said she was so dull she’d probably die a virgin. So I didn’t have anything to worry about. Or so I thought.”

  Sunshine laughed and rose to comfort me with a hug. “Except for her daddy and your husband, she’d had most every man within five miles. Even a lot of the Amish boys wrestled in the hay with that little tart.”

  “And I never knew,” I whispered. “What kind of a mother am I?”

  Sunshine hugged me tight, kissing my cheek as our embrace broke. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Abby. Me and Walker did it most nights right over your head, and you didn’t even know that. So how were you supposed to know about him and Isabella?”

  Like that was much comfort.

  Chapter 69

  It took several days to get over my self-loathing. By the time I realized I’d never win any mother-of-the-year awards, I had more to worry about than my son’s inability to keep it in his pants.

  “We need to get to the Amish store and get as much as we can,” I told Sunshine on a warmer winter day. “This weather isn’t going to last forever. We need to capitalize on it.”