For Tamara

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For Tamara Page 3

by Sarah Lang


  I’m sorry things won’t as be as a / themed birthday party. / I think, even now I can’t make up for it.

  You can tell if fruit/veg are ripe by smelling them at the vine-end. / They should look small for their weight.

  When you cut down a tree. / Let it dry. / For good firewood.

  Yr grandfather would make a great list. / He’d know we have to fortify. / That we’d have to move. / But we’re trying to make a home, here.

  Just in time. / I used to love that song. Evolution, along with other -tions, will be part of the studies in this school. / No argument.

  You are always and completely forgiven. / Now come home.

  T., It is easier to teach you to navigate using the stars than it is to make a compass. / Welcome to your sextant. / Mum’s tired.

  And because the idea of you not being fine destroys me.

  I wanted to teach you piano. / Not this. / Sometimes I think the piano would have been better. / But you’re still alive.

  Celebrate birthdays. / We used to put one candle for each year of a person’s age in his or her cake. / They would wish. / Before they blew out the candles.

  He had a thing for prime numbers. I still couldn’t set an alarm clock to anything other than a prime.

  Eat and sleep regularly. / The end of the world will be there tomorrow.

  Give her a piece of fruit. / Reserve time for these things. / Rituals matter.

  I know that when I die, / for the first time in my life, / I’ll feel regret. / Know that I loved you Tamara. / And wanted to spend more time with you. / Please understand why I couldn’t. / That is your only dress. / Take care of it.

  Negotiations. / I wish you could watch ST: TNG. / Find common ground. / PPL want food, water, shelter, families / to breathe.

  I don’t know how to work a shortwave radio to save my life, / as the phrase went. / But I learned; I do the best I can.

  Do not always rely on tech. / Write it down / yes, longhand.

  No one imagined their lives like this; / but fuck why aren’t you here?

  T., you know how you sometimes have nightmares? / I want to curl up with you against the world too.

  I hope you remember me. / I’m counting on it; I don’t write much about me. / I’m not sure what to write / but this. / Your Dad. / Yr Dad has all this knowledge in his head / but he / he would kick your ass at chess.

  I’m worried I won’t be able to teach you songs. / How could I teach you all those songs?

  Yr grandfather would have emphasized the need to fortify and keep on the move. / That we can’t have any candlelight at night. / I optimistically hope this hospital and school help too many people for other groups to attack us. I’m not naïve: / shooting your doctor is just plain dumb.

  I know you hate it; that you can take care of yourself. Yes, T., you are guarded. / Is it fair to give you extra protection? / No. / But you are mine. / So hush.

  My Beautiful Idiot, we both wish you were here. / There is so much you could teach her I can’t. / You could help. / We need help. / I have written you so many letters / but we will have to reuse this paper. / I can’t make enough to warrant this hoarding.

  I wonder what picture you will end up drawing. / In other words / what will you dream of? / What do you dream of?

  You Idiot. / You can’t figure out a way to contact us? / With everything you have access to? / I wish I could promise T. you were trying. / I wish I knew what was stopping you. / And yes, I — we — have to believe that. / I think we’ve isolated the problems w/the water. / And yes, I believe you are still alive, under all that whatever / in that bunker / that work you never told me about. / Or you’re out of supplies. / No. / T., when you are older, you will understand these letters. / I love you / but I need your Father / we all do. / I promise Tamara, anyway you know. / Just so you know. / With everything you have access to / you wouldn’t just not find us.

  T., Mum has doubts. / She writes them down and never shows them. / It is not what anyone needs to hear. / I wish I could worry about school lunches.

  Is there any way we can build a well here? / Then we have to move.

  For you, my love, more / than anyone.

  We are going to follow the laws that were in place before all this. / To the best of our abilities. / We will work on a gov’t: / understood?

  The use of deadly force is only authorized if there is a very clear risk to your own safety. / We do not run around like warlords, ok, T.? / Always offer someone the chance to step aside or cooperate. / Incapacitate if necessary. / Remember what started this. / Rise above it, T., for me.

  How to hold a baby. / How to feed a baby. / What to do when a baby cries. / I never even liked baby books. / I still think we’ll be okay without one.

  Forgiveness will be the hardest and smartest thing. / Promise me you’ll learn. / Try and understand the others’ pov / no matter how horrible.

  When I talk about your Father, / I love him and I miss him; / it has been years. / T., I don’t want to feel guilty anymore.

  Soak hardwood ash in water to make lye. / To make soap. / River rocks can be used like a washboard. / Cleanliness will prevent disease.

  Tanning. / I have no idea how to cut up a cow, horse, or deer. / Do your best. / You’ll get it right, in time. / You will.

  These are the surviving maps of the regions. / Pool intel & find a clean water source. / A river; ideally a spring.

  I don’t have to worry about him smelling like you. / Literally impossible. / I find myself remembering rhymes about plagues / flowers to keep smells away. / Winter’s been “cozy.”

  Corn husks against all the walls. / Layer of soil in every wall. / These windows. / “Chop wood, carry water.” / Mainly chop & dry that wood.

  I’m sorry we’re always moving, Tamara. / One day, I hope (b/c I won’t promise), we will have a proper home.

  We have to train everyone, granted. / But first doctors and fighters. / Engineers.

  Plant a stick next to the main stem. / Tie it on. / Loosen the ties the farther the plant strays. / Note it will grow towards the sun.

  OK lesson learned. / Apparently someone wants me to have kids and paint. / And here you thought making an isolation room w/my kid was weird.

  Yo! / If you are not filling every available container in this house with potable water: / get out. / I’m counting the toilet. / Mark it if you want. / We all know it is cleaner than what we are going to have access to. / Thank me later.

  Our hands are in the air. / We do not want to hurt you; / in fact we would love it if you joined us. / If you try and stop us / we will kill you and take what we want anyway. / I’m asking you to be our pharmacist / and grab everything you can. / You’ve heard the news. / The sooner we do this the better. / Please. / I have no desire to harm you / but I have a desire to live. / I’ve made a list of meds / but I’m sure you can do one better. / And you are invited to come with us. / We have clean water and food. / That is more than your house is going to have.

  Clocks. / We will run out of batteries. / Let’s at least have a sundial. / Way to count the days. / We’re keeping the Roman calendar. / For ease.

  We will have freedom of religion so long as it is separate from state. / I know that is easier said than done. / Let’s just not kill each other.

  We need a cobbler. / Or someone to learn. / To sew. / Spin, weave, knit. / We are going to freeze. We had to start growing food yesterday. / If anyone can get that generator to work, we can start work indoors.

  Tamara, I will not show you how to kill yourself painlessly. / Neither would My Beautiful Idiot, your Father. / If you want to, figure it out yourself.

  Trade & barter. / Don’t kill out of want / only ever need. / T., that includes you. / You are not up for negotiation. / But the second you are / do not hesitate. / You’ll live.

  We are going to help the sick & injured the best we can. / Did
you know elephants (I’ll draw you a pic) have medicine? / If they can, we can.

  You can eat insects. / Get over it. / Human flesh is probably tainted / and no culture thrives with cannibalism. / Only in an emergency.

  Plastic dripping into a fire makes the sound of a lightsaber. / If you ever understand that / I will be inconsolably happy.

  If we don’t find any parkas, furs, etc. / someone here, please volunteer to make them. / As fast as you can. / (We will all die.)

  I wish I could say you’ve never seen that / that you won’t again. / We get five minutes a day to cry / in peace. / No excuses, explanations. / And yeah, kiddo, they are that yellow. / Neon yellow.

  Airborne infections are housed outside the main building / until someone figures out how to make something way stronger than penicillin.

  I want to you know your great-grandparents went to one-room schools too. / People used to complain how large the schools were, before this. / We need to re-invent the chalkboard or whatever else you can think of. / No way we devote this much time to paper.

  My Darling Dearest, I wish I could just sit here and teach you how to French braid your hair. / You sleep beautifully. / Like your Father.

  I inherited a trait: my arm over my eyes while I sleep. / PLS come home. / We aren’t so bad as all that work you think I don’t know about.

  My Husband, / if I knew you were dead / it would be so much easier. / Instead you are hope. / A ghost. / A reminder.

  Dear My Wonderful if Absent Husband,

  Your daughter is doing remarkably well . . . and I’d fucking stick a fork in the eye of anyone who even gave me a good reason you weren’t here.

  I could make up some nonsense about her needing a Father, but it would be just that: nonsense.

  I need to be able to wash my feet (showers are long gone) alone. I need help raising her, and I know full well you’d want a hand in it.

  Take what you need / not what you want. / Hope others do the same.

  You’d tell her all about the butterflies.

  Why do I wear a ring? / There are various histories. / You’ll find a very good one, I’m sure. / I could speak to him in any language. / I wrote yr Dad over 80 unsent letters, yr 1. / Postal system, fancy that. / Not that you need to tie a tie / a reactor, maybe. / A generator. / When all this happened he wasn’t here, / I couldn’t even contact him. / I wish I could promise I will always be here for you, Tamara. / I was better at languages than he was; / but he could write algorithms in his sleep I could barely read.

  Every single fucking day you fucking asshole.

  I was 30 when I had you. / No hospitals. / Lucky we made it. / Think of how many deliveries we’ve done since. / That’s my girl.

  I tried to call, contact. / I would have made smoke signals if I thought your Dad could see them.

  I wish I could make you laugh. / I wish someone made me laugh. / You know I dream about you, right?

  Your Dad may be dead. / Given his work, he is either protected or a target. / But he has the same strength we have. / He’ll make it. / (ps I need him to make it. / I just don’t want to admit to hope.)

  T., / sometimes I’m so tired. / Everyone is / that will never excuse any time I ignored you. / I loved holding you before bed.

  Today I’m going to show you how to turn inks to paint. / And, yes, dye cloth. / Be so much more careful than you think you should be with water.

  Malnutrition will kill you ever so slowly. / Dehydration will not only be faster but far more painful. / You watch, test, & check that water.

  Things I never got to do: learn to tango & sail; have leather gloves made to actually fit my hands by this guy in Newport.

  All that I’ve had to give up; no, forget. / I hated walking to the subway in heels. / Now I wish for such complaints.

  Unlike most children, my Father gave me books on the nature of Time when I was 11. / Now I give them to you. / I know you can’t use them now. / But you will.

  Since we are starting over: morning sickness is a ridiculous name.

  I had a teacher who talked about the beauty of a mushroom cloud. / Might be the reason I photographed myself crying. / May as well get something out of it.

  I love impossible people. / Just like you, my Dearest.

  Well in this case there is a mother that is trying to rebuild. So, very, very sadly, her daughter would be a hell of a shot. Ideally, she would non-lethally shoot and then stich up the person.

  And she’d use arrows, bullets are a pain to make.

  I have not met anyone who can make gunpowder. So silent, reusable and easily made weapons would be key for defense.

  Don’t think I didn’t want to kill us both after that. / But I didn’t. / I wish I weren’t a single parent.

  Everyone is screened for lice, bedbugs, tb, and everything you can think of. / Err on the side of caution. / I’m sorry we can’t take them all.

  Yr Dad & I: do you know how many languages & dialects we spoke to each other? / I’m just missing him. / Plus, he is a better scientist than I.

  We built this sort of altar. / All our favourite, precious things.

  I’m not going to get a better story then yr Father & I. / Dry the wood. / Winter is coming.

  I can teach you embroidery. / Not as well as your great-grandmother, but something. / And I can spin wool. / Who thought that’d be useful?

  There is a nicely formed queue out there. / If I make an exception for even you / this “hospital” won’t work anymore. / People come because they know they are safe and that I will do everything I can. / They respect the fact that they have to wait their turn. / So no. / Not even for you will I break the rules. / (If you promise not to tell anyone, yes, you do get to jump the queue. Just don’t let anyone see. / If they do / “the doctor has to be well to treat others.”) / If you want to be of use, / hand out clean water. / This is the deal.

  Remember what you are worth. / A spark starts a fire. / Forgive them, and me. / I love you.

  I still find myself reaching out for your Father. / Physically, my hand outstretched. / On the rare occasions I laugh. / I want to share it.

  You’re going to find all these devices / with numbers and letters. / Remember the basics. / We both love you.

  Guess what? I really hate not being able to ask you shit. / You were better at some things. / Now I have to look them up. / Come home.

  Cold will make you crazy. / Let’s insulate against it. / Corn stalks, dirt. / Really, it will make you as crazy as heat, a fever.

  Before I invent animals like mermaids & unicorns. / We have to find & herd some real ones / okay, Darling?

  I’ll show you how to milk a cow. / K, it will probably be on the tenth try. / We can do this.

  We used to set aside a small part of any budget to make city project — like a road — pretty. Beautification.

  A mattress festers. / We have to be practical. / Chop wood, carry? / This is the only life you’ve known. / Like any kid, you know nothing else.

  This sky, T., she’ll show you more than I ever could.

  I wish teaching you superstitions were sensible. / I want you to know Santa & how to pick flower petals. / “He loves me; loves me not.”

  That’s the cuts & bruises line. / Then: likely concussion. / Next: missing limbs, etc. / Finally, we have lady in labour: she got her own line. We likely have a case of mrsa. / Everyone with a flesh wound: over here. / Take their temperature; look for obvious signs of infection. / If you have a compromised immune system / speak up now. / Yes, that includes everything from hiv to you catch a cold way too often.

  I didn’t wait 3 years to give up like this.

  My Beautiful Idiot / I know you hated the floors / I know you left for work, / but if you ever came back / I’d clock you for that. / I understand what you are doing is so very important. / And I know we both agreed. / But sometimes I would ignite the atmospher
e if I thought it would send you home.

  New growth will be lighter. / Those are Juniper berries. / You can make tea out of rosehips.

  You really are the most beautiful thing. Okay, you’re after clean drinking water. / Still you’re gorgeous.

  Yes, your Mum swears like a sailor. / One day she hopes you can sail and bite your tongue. / And grow tomatoes.

  We know of one holster in this house. / Do not get sentimental. / Check the attics (house & garage). / I do not think baseball bats will win.

  Random home remedies. / To combat anxiety, yawn. / Seriously, you’ll take in more O2 than you need. / Aside from aloe, lavender works for burns. / (Pepper)mint for an upset stomach. / Ginger for nausea. / Chamomile for stress. / Valerian for sleep. / St. John’s Wort for depression.

  I’m not the best Mum in the world. / You probably figured that out. / Sadly, T., you’re stuck with me. / You could do worse.

  I’m not supposed to talk about how I likely will die. / But why else would I be writing this?

  No, you aren’t getting siblings. / One unassisted home birth was enough. / Plus, look at the kids here. / What are they if not your siblings?

  If I thought I could draw you a picture of a city, a forest / anything that could show you how it used to be I would. / I don’t want to make you sad. / (ps While I’m okay at painting; I’m not that good./ I wish I could take the train into Manhattan [as I remember it] with you. / That skyline.)

  Yeah, T., you’ve got me. / I protect you more than the others. / What can I say? / If you died / so would this house. / Home.

  T., just know you will hurt me far less than I will ever love you. /

 

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