Sleepers 2

by Jacqueline Druga

  Sonny’s trailer was cooler, so I took the baby there. All of the new things I’d gotten for Phoenix were in there as well. When I stepped in, Danny was sleeping on the couch.

  Immediately, I started rummaging through the items I got for Phoenix and the newborn things we took from Sonny’s house, placing things I needed on the countertop between the kitchen and living areas.

  I found the bottle with the tiniest and newest nipple, filled it with some formula powder and room temperature water, and placed the bottle aside to dampen a washcloth. Sonny had generator power and warmed a tank of water in the morning for us, so the water was warm.

  “Everything alright?” Danny asked, sitting up on the couch. “Something wrong with Phoenix?” “This isn’t Phoenix,” I said. I placed the baby on the counter and opened the blanket.

  Danny came over to watch. “Oh, man,” he said. “Poor little guy.” He reached for the baby’s hand and the tiny fingers wrapped around Danny’s.

  I guess Danny brought it out of me. I don’t know, but I just started to cry. Poor little guy was right. What a horrible start to such a hard life. To me, Phoenix was the golden boy, the child who had it all. This little guy …words could not describe.

  Sniffling, I grabbed the cloth and gently began to wash the baby.

  “He likes it,” Danny said. “Look.”

  I washed the baby with my most loving touch, my tears rolling from my cheeks, dropping onto his little body. I wiped them away, then gently caressed him with baby lotion, and when I finished, I paused, lowering my head to him for a moment. After I swaddled him, I lifted him close to my chest and picked up the bottle.

  “Bonnie said he can’t eat,” Danny said.

  “I know.” I wiggled the nipple near his mouth. “I don’t understand why though.”

  “Because he doesn’t have a nose. He can’t eat and breathe.”

  “He has a nostril, he has to be able to breathe,” I insisted.

  “Alex said he wasn’t sure.”

  “Alex is allowed to be wrong. I won’t be satisfied until I see for myself.”

  Admittedly, I watched my son more than I watched the baby. I just cradled him so close to my chest, afraid to look in case he wouldn’t eat. The moment I saw Danny’s eyes brighten, I looked down.

  He was taking the bottle and swallowing it. It didn’t trickle from his mouth, nor did he choke or turn blue.

  “Oh my God, Mom.” Danny grinned and ran his hand over the little guy’s head. “He’s eating.”

  Many ordinary things had started to make me happy in this new life. Seeing the child eat was on that list. More tears flowed from my eyes. “You’re eating,” I said to him. “Yes, you are.”

  “I have a feeling he’s gonna be okay, Mom,” Danny said. “He has you now.”

  I smiled at Danny and then placed my lips on the baby’s head. Holding him close as I fed him, I started to hum a song, trying my hardest to resonate it against my ribs so even if he didn’t hear me, he felt my vibrations.

  Danny said he was going to be okay.

  I didn’t know how much of that was true. The small, unloved, unnamed, newborn baby boy might defy odds and live, but to be okay?

  The whole world was far from okay. And this newest addition to our group had far too many obstacles ahead of him.

  * * *

  “You’ve been crying,” Beck said to me as soon as I approached him.

  “I don’t know how I should take that,” I said. “Do I look that much of a mess?”

  “Nah, you’re actually pretty cute when you cry. Are you alright though?” He leaned against the hood of an abandoned car, our lookout then reached down to the baby. “He looks different. Is he the reason you’re crying?”

  “I feel so sorry for him. I bathed him and rubbed lotion on him, fed him.”

  “How did that go?”

  “He ate.”

  With surprise, Beck turned to me. “He ate?”

  “Three ounces. Two more than a child his age should eat, and he burped. A good one, too.”

  “Wait. Bonnie said he wouldn’t eat.”

  I motioned with my lips, looked back at the kids and at Bonnie and inched toward Beck. “Please keep this between us.”

  “You don’t think she fed him?”

  “I think she wanted him to die. I don’t know. That’s terrible of me to say. Please forget I said it.”

  “I can’t, Mer, I think it too. But in her defense—”

  “Her defense?” I echoed, appalled.

  “Yes, Mera, in her defense. He has no eyes, no nose, and no ears. He has little chance of survival in this world without someone constantly caring for him. We don’t even know her story, but we do know she’s caring for a dozen kids already. That is a lot. Now there’s a baby that needs attention. It’s a cold, cruel world, babe.”

  “I know. But she has Jillian.”

  “Come on, Mera.” Beck motioned his head. “She’s hopped up on something. Probably hit every available drugstore to ease the pain of the world’s end. Bonnie’s doing this alone. Not saying she’s right, but if she deliberately allowed the child to slip away, then she did it for the baby’s sake, too.”

  “Why save him in the first place? Why cut the cord? Why do that?”

  “It was the humane thing to do,” Beck replied. “Then reality hit her. Again, her choice.”

  “She didn’t name him.”

  “Her choice.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You’ve been hanging around Alex too much. This right here…” I swirled my finger at him as I stepped even closer, “is all too reminiscent of that major I met at the refugee center.”

  Beck lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was a brief slip.”

  “So name him.”

  “I did. You’re the first one I am telling. Don’t make fun.”

  Beck threw his head back. “Oh my God, don’t tell me that you named him Falcon or Hawk or Eagle.”

  “What? No. Why would you say that?”

  “Because you named Phoenix after a bird.”

  “Oh. I guess I did, huh? Not this one. I named him Keller.”

  Beck opened his mouth to speak but paused, then blinked. “Like Helen Keller.”

  “Yep. She was blind and deaf and made an impact on the world.” I lifted the baby. “And so will you, right, Keller?” I spoke to him then I raised my eyes to Beck. “What do you think?”

  “What do I think?” He looked up then back down to me. “I think you’re pretty special, and that baby is lucky to have you.”

  “I don't deserve that compliment.”

  Just then a rushed and panicked call from Michael made my heart thump to my stomach. He was running to us.

  “Mera!”

  “Oh my God, Phoenix, is he alright?” I asked.

  “Huh? Yeah, why would you ask?”

  “Because you’re screaming my name. Where’s the baby?”

  “Danny has him. Mera ….” he lifted a journal. “I was reading…. I was… did you name the baby?”

  I gave a curious glance to Beck then nodded at Michael.

  “Did you by some off chance name him Keller?”

  It shocked me that he asked me, and it showed on my face. “How did you know?”

  “So you did?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Later. We’ll talk later.” Michael rushed off.

  Beck’s eyebrow rose. “We’ll talk later? You didn’t tell anyone the name but me?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “You think?” I turned and looked at Michael. How did he know? He looked frazzled, almost thrown for a loop. However, I did know one thing for sure. Michael had survived a seemingly inevitable death sentence, he’d found us again and saved me, and now he knew Keller’s name. There was definitely something different about Michael, I just didn’t know what it was.

  I was convinced we’d fin
d out.

  21. MERA STEVENS

  When Alex returned with Sonny, I was unable to tell if he was happy or annoyed that Keller was eating on his own. He was probably irritated that he hadn’t tried to feed the child himself. However, he still insisted on starting an IV on the baby to rehydrate him.

  We didn’t have a clue how long it had been since he had eaten sufficiently, if ever.

  I wanted to question Bonnie about it, but under Beck’s and Alex’s advisement, I let it go, especially after hearing the story of how she came across the children.

  I guess I thought that she picked them up one by one, but we discovered that wasn’t the case. About a month or so after the Event, around the same time that Sonny’s town went south, Bonnie emerged from her hideaway to see what had become of the world.

  She had been hiding at her brother’s farm in Iowa when he turned suddenly after a trip into town and a run in with, as Bonnie referred to them as well, Palers.

  Unlike Sonny, though, she’d had some contact with the New Jerusalem and then the ARC.

  She told us that she was about to give up three days into her solo journey to find one of the two salvation centers, and that’s when she met Ray.

  She was running for her life in a town overrun with Sleepers when she saw the school bus and realized it would be a safe hiding place.

  Little did she know when she boarded the bus that Ray and the children were already there.

  She never did get much of the story from Ray. He, four other adults, and the kids had been on a camping trip with their church. He was in charge.

  The Event occurred, and he stayed with the children because none of them had turned. They stayed at the campsite for a long time, but when they left and pulled into a town an attack occurred.

  The children were still safe on the bus. Ray was the only adult who survived.

  Bonnie told us the details after dinner, after the kids were sound asleep and couldn’t hear anything. The night had cooled a little, and we sat in a circle around the small fire listening as she finished her story.

  “I never questioned the children,” Bonnie said. “Jillian wanted to ask about the adults, but they’ve been through enough. The past couple of weeks it’s been difficult to keep them fed and hydrated.”

  I understood the problems she’d faced. Alex and Sonny had stopped for supplies, and I knew from speaking to them that we’d have to go somewhere with fresh water wells soon. We had gone from seven to twenty mouths to feed.

  We were in for a long winter if we didn’t find a safe place to live. I was hopeful we’d find the New Jerusalem. For some reason, I was worried when Bonnie went over the maps with Alex and Beck to try to locate it.

  Beck asked. “What happened to Ray?”

  “He was killed a few days later,” Bonnie answered. “His daughter, Amber, was devastated. She still isn’t talking. She’s smiling more lately, though, than she did at first.”

  “You said you had radio contact with the ARC and the New Jerusalem. Did Ray talk to them by any chance?”

  Bonnie nodded at Beck. “The ARC, yes, but he told me that they weren’t aware of the children, and we should aim for somewhere else. He had a bad feeling. He was smart, really smart.” She exhaled loudly. “When we found the …” she paused and looked at me, “found Keller, I wish Ray was around. He said he was a doctor. I wasn’t sure what kind, but he would have been better than me.”

  “That’s why we’re grateful for Alex,” I said. Grabbing my bottle, I poured a drink, offered it around, and Bonnie obliged. Jillian did as well, and that scared me, especially if Beck was right, and she was taking pills.

  It was actually a pleasant evening. We were relaxed, but it also felt like the calm before a storm. It was probably my imagination, however, I kept my guard up. I learned all too well after the church incident that things could turn on a dime.

  Michael played background music. He occasionally sang, which I loved because he had such a fantastic voice. I realized only after a while that it was all Christian music.

  Sonny retrieved a beer for himself and Alex and out of courtesy offered one to Michael. It shocked me that he accepted.

  I think it shocked Alex more than the rest of us because he choked on his beer. He laughed, but his eyes glanced across the fire. He seemed to be studying Bonnie and Jillian.

  “So,” Alex said, “this Ray guy checked out in a Sleeper attack?”

  “Ah, come on, guy,” Danny said. “Be gentle, man. Use some tact.”

  “That was tactful,” Alex argued. “Just was curious. I mean, I was wondering what happened to their men.”

  I coughed out a laugh. “Their men?”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “Their men.”

  My voice squeaked in disbelief. “Their men? What? This isn’t the OK Corral, the 1950s or even an episode of The Walking Dead. Their men? Please. They’re doing okay without their men.”

  “Like you?” Alex pointed his beer bottle. “Padre here is a man. Without him, you’d be Sleeper fodder right now.”

  “I’ll give you that,” I retorted. “However, at that soda machine, I stood a better chance than you.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Michael wouldn’t have covered you with his body.”

  Alex looked at Michael, who stopped playing.

  “It’s true,” Michael said.

  “Man, that’s rough.”

  Beck spoke up. “Can we… can we change the subject? No Sleeper talk tonight?”

  Sonny lifted his beer bottle. “Here, here, Major. We are in a safe location for the time being. Let’s enjoy it.”

  “And on the subject of changing,” Alex turned to Michael, “I know you’re playing and singing for your Dad. How about changing up?”

  At first, Michael appeared to be insulted. With a shake of his head, he looked up. “I’m not sure I remember much that I didn’t play in church.” He tapped his finger on the bottom of his guitar. “All right, I got one, I’ll take you back.” He looked at Danny. “You may not even know this one.”

  He struck a chord and sang the first line of the song, ‘It’s Only Make Believe.’ “People see us everywhere...”

  It was as though a valve released. Everyone, including Danny, because I was sure he knew the old song, sighed. We had been listening to Michael play Christian songs, and that was the only music we had heard in months.

  This was a song from everyday life. It was a breath of fresh air. It wasn’t the end of the world for a moment, we were just people sitting around a fire.

  We weren’t scared that Sleepers would follow the noise and come rushing out of the woods, because we hadn’t seen one in days.

  Bonnie laid a hand upon her own chest with a reminiscent smile. “My husband and I always played this on the jukebox when we were out. No matter how old it is, it’s a great tune.”

  I smiled. “Daniel and I did the same thing. How funny. And we danced every time, no matter who was around.”

  “Nathan and I did, too. There was …” Bonnie’s eyes lifted, and I looked up.

  Alex was standing before me with his hand extended.

  “What?”

  “Don’t make me feel like I’m back in the eighth grade asking Mary Jane Wymer to dance and she shot me down after I made it all the way across the gym.”

  “You only made it across the fire.”

  He wiggled his fingers.

  “Alex, I don’t think …”

  He walked behind me, grabbed my hand, and tugged me to my feet, then pulled me a few feet away from the group. He gripped my hand as he danced with me.

  I whispered, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to dance with all that’s going on?”

  “I think it’s a great idea to dance. It’s been about three months, Mera. Are we supposed to mope forever? It’s the end of the world as we know it, but you’re alive. Your son, your daughter. You have Phoenix. And you guys didn’t die on that roof. Sometimes, we have to celebrate life instead of canonizing de
ath. Appreciate the positives, Mera, instead of feeling guilt over the negative.”

  “You trying to tell me something, Alex Sans?”

  “Could be…” He stepped back, extended his arm, turned me once and snapped me directly to his chest. He whispered, “Or I might be looking for an excuse to touch you.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. That certainly wasn’t something I had done much of lately. Alex made me laugh, and his breath tickled my ear. I stepped back away, ready to end the dance and thank him for that moment of normal life that I’d just experienced. Before the words left my mouth, I noticed Beck.

  He looked sad. He stared, looking at his drink, lifting his eyes to me. I was caught up in his look, wondering where his mind was. He probably was missing his family, his wife. My expression reflected his as we stared at each other.

  Alex, though, broke that with a hard kiss to my cheek.

  “Thank you, that was nice,” he said.

  Alex returned to his seat, and Michel kept playing non-Christian music.

  I moved to sit down again, and Beck finished off his drink and stood. “I think I’m gonna call it a night so I can relieve Alex of watch in a few hours.”

  Sonny spoke up, “You know, you guys have me as well. I can take a watch.”

  “I think Alex and Danny first watch,” Beck said. “Me and you, second. Thanks. Good night, all.” He bid his goodbye and headed to the trailer.

  “Will you excuse me?” I said, and I followed. If Beck needed to talk, needed someone, then I was going to be there for him. I was selfish early on, but no more.

  When I walked into the trailer, it was still. Jessie was sleeping on the couch. I didn’t need to call out for Beck, he was standing over the cradle.

  “Everything okay?” I whispered.

  “This is amazing.” He waved me over to him. “Come look.”

  Arms folded, I walked to the cradle where for the time being we were able to fit both Phoenix and Keller.

  “I wanted to check on them,” Beck said. “And look.”

  I peered around Beck to the cradle. Both babies were on their sides, Phoenix so much bigger than Keller, but I saw what Beck did, and it made me gasp. The precious sleeping babies were holding hands.