R.E.birth

by Thomas W. Everson

  “Go see what needs to be done.” She winks at me.

  I blush again and this time I know she’s seen it. Hastily retreating down the stairs, I find myself feeling awkward and comforted at the same time. Acting that way, she makes me a little nervous to be around her. My stomach is aflutter and I wonder why she makes me feel that way. Though I’m attracted to her, I have no experience from my past to guide me in the proper etiquette to that kind emotion, but I find that the attention is not unwanted.

  Entering the kitchen, I find Agatha leaning back in a chair with a crudely folded paper fan in her hand trying to cool herself down. She has changed into one of her gardening outfits, overalls and a thin shirt.

  “Here to help finally?” Evalyn snaps.

  “What is it that you need done?” I ask without spite toward her.

  “Since the storm is over, go hang all the clothing back up,” she barks her orders.

  “Okay.” I keep it civil.

  A couple pieces at a time I begin hauling items back outside but quickly find that one of the poles has toppled, leaving only three usable rows to hang things from. Though I imagine it will be easy to fix, with the possibility of another sandstorm I take a guess that it will be fixed next month.

  Little by little, I accomplish the task that Evalyn set me, making sure to grab an even amount of clothes for each of us so that none of us will be left without clean clothing. Though still damp, the hot air begins drying them even before I am done hanging the last.

  Inside, getting a glass of water from the faucet, I guzzle it down as Evalyn struggles to bring up a metal ladder from the basement. Intercepting her I offer my assistance and she obliges by giving me the tail end. She leads us outside and takes it from me, positioning it against the side of the house and though the ladder looked fairly small she somehow extends it so that it reaches the top of the second story. She begins to ascend the ladder but it wobbles and I stop her.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m climbing up to the roof to see if there has been any damage to the solar panels. If we’re going to survive we need to keep them in working order.”

  “Is that something I can do? It looks rather unsafe.”

  “Do you know anything about electricity?” she berates me. “Just hold the ladder!”

  “No, but at least allow me to help out,” I try to calm her with a soothing voice. “What if the wind kicks up?”

  Annoyed, Evalyn stares me down for a moment and I can see a change in her, but when the mood in her face lightens I know that she has not accepted me, but rather she has given Agatha control of her body again.

  “She really does not like being around me.” I smirk.

  “You’re getting good at knowing when it is me or Evalyn,” she smiles in defiance of her sister’s awful mood.

  “Unfortunately. Can’t you block her from taking over?”

  “I used to be able to back when all this had just started, but I just don’t have the will to resist her anymore.” She frowns briefly but she quickly changes the subject. “Look at you though. You used ‘can’t’ instead of ‘cannot’. Ami’s teaching is working.”

  “I guess it is. It is also probably because I am immersed in your dialect of the language constantly.” I smile and think of my time with Ami.

  “Ready to go up?” She asks.

  I nod with a smile, gripping the ladder tightly while she climbs upward. Planting my feet firmly on the ground I concentrate on keeping the ladder upright. Agatha reaches the top of the house and disappears; it’s my turn. Carefully I climb up the ladder, calling up to her.

  “Agatha, stay still until I get up there,” I yell.

  When I get up there, I can see her sitting down looking out over the desert. Even with the extra few feet above the second level, all that can be seen is a wasteland of sand, rock and occasional dead bush. Slick with sand, the shingles provide no help in holding our footing, so I stay low, practically crawling.

  Agatha does the same and turns toward what I assume are the solar panels, large, black rectangular pieces bolted on frames to the roof. A number of them line the roof with enough space for a person to maneuver through. Following closely behind her, I watch intently while she inspects each of them, occasionally leaning over to run her hand across them and brush sand away. Digging my toes against the roofing I brace myself in order to catch her in case she slips but I pay attention to the panels, each with a grid of multiple other rectangles appearing to be black glass and held together by a metal structure.

  Following Agatha’s lead I brush sand away as the setting sun continues to beat us heavily. We make our way carefully along the panels, finally circling back to our starting position. I take her silence to mean she found nothing wrong.

  “So, with all this sun we should not run out of power?” I break the silence.

  “We’ll see. For now they seem okay,” she says, sitting down on the roof.

  Slowly, I set myself against the wobbly ladder and I feel it shift as I begin to climb down, but Agatha grabs the top of it and holds it for me. I climb down as steadily as I can and, upon reaching the bottom, I secure the ladder for her to come down.

  Leaving the ladder, we head back inside and I guzzle down another glass of water. Sitting in my spot at the head of the table, I fan myself by lifting and dropping my shirt several times in quick succession. It works until I stop and the heat fills around me again. Agatha opens the refrigerator, quickly pulls something out and just as quickly closes it again. A draft of cool air hits me for a brief moment.

  “Ahh, that felt good,” I groan.

  “The refrigerator?” She asks.

  “Yeah. The cool air rushed over here and hit my neck.” I look behind me to find her at the island counter.

  “If it wasn’t storing our perishables I’d invite you to stand in front of it.” She smirks at me while unwrapping some leftovers.

  “Well then perhaps we should eat all of that food first so we can make use of it,” I jest with her.

  She laughs as Ami pops in through the kitchen door looking just as hot and tired as us.

  “Were you on the roof?” She looks at her mother.

  “Yes dear,” she replies softly.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It’s all in working order for now, but we’ll have to maintain a watch on them to make sure it stays that way,” Agatha replies.

  “How’re the outfits coming?” I ask.

  “They’re nearly finished. They will be great for us when working outside.”

  “What about something to protect the head and face?”

  “I’m building that into the outfits.” Ami moves over to the table and sits down. “They will have hoods that will drape over the face and a shielding piece we can put up to cover everything but our eyes.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” I compliment her.

  “I’ve tried,” she smiles.

  Silence ensues for a few minutes and Agatha brings over some small plates with leftover turkey and bread stuffing for each of us. I nod at her in appreciation and, while I eat, I find an opportunity to bring up Evalyn’s power.

  “What methods have you tried to stop the house from being sent through time?”

  “Stopping it? Not a lot. The first time it happened we tried to escape but after the month was over we learned that we were bound here. I was hurt pretty badly,” Agatha says sadly. “We also buried Evalyn’s body in another time but that didn’t work.”

  “Evalyn has done things to deter Mother from trying so we just sort of accepted it,” Ami chimes in while sipping a glass of water.

  “Have you ever found anyone else with power like her? Or maybe she can reverse it while possessing you?” I ask the questions that have been burning within me.

  “We have heard stories, but never found anyone. And Evalyn is not likely to help. We are at her mercy.” Agatha shifts her gaze to stare blankly at the wall.

  “That’s a little un
fair. Punishing you because she was miserable,” I comment.

  “I’ll show you who’s miserable!” Agatha’s arm reaches up to strike me across the face.

  Nearly caught off guard by her hand, I lean backward quickly, but the chair tilts back too far and I slam into the floor.

  Looks like I struck a chord.

  “Why don’t you let them go, Evalyn?” I hastily get up and right the chair. “Why can’t you let your grudge go?”

  “I don’t have the ability to let them go! I’m stuck here just as much as they are! You have no right to come into this house and judge me! They should have left you to die!” Evalyn gets up but instead of trying to strike me, she storms through the swinging door.

  Her stomping up the stairs can be felt through the floorboards and even after she’s at the top of the stairs I can hear her grumbling, though I cannot make out the words. Ami and I sit in silence while finishing our small meal but she breaks it.

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “For what?”

  “Two things really. Since you’re here she has been taking her frustration out on you, not me.” She laughs a little to break the tension. “But I know she won’t say sorry, so I’m saying it in her place.”

  “Don’t be sorry. She’s miserable because she wants to be, but being caught between life and death does not sound like it was intended.”

  “I find it funny, but if you think about it, she played a part in saving you also.” She smirks at me while laying her head on the table. “If she hadn’t put us in this situation, you would be dead in the woods.”

  Nodding, I contemplate this notion and find she’s entirely right.

  Though I do not agree with Evalyn’s behavior, I wonder if I should be a little more sensitive, maybe apologize to her later and smooth things over. I never got around to apologizing for the last time I severely offended her so maybe one of these days I will make one big effort.

  For now though I finish the turkey on my plate and set the dish in the sink, finding no use in wasting our precious water washing one dish.

  With Evalyn upstairs I find even being in my room might be hazardous so I settle for the couch in the living room. With the shades drawn shut it seems less warm in this part of the house and I stretch out with my legs propped on the table. But despite being cooler than upstairs, I still find the heat sapping my energy.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  When I wake it is night, the room dark except for the moonlight seeping in through the cracks in the drapes. Lying on my stomach I find my arm draped over Ami’s shoulder and she is holding it tightly against her chest. I quickly yank my arm away, embarrassed that my arm was in a compromising position resting across her breasts.

  “What are you doing?” She whispers.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper back, a little uneasy.

  “You were keeping me warm,” she protests sleepily.

  “I don’t think that the way my arm was positioned was appropriate.” I stammer a little.

  “There wasn’t anything behind it. I just needed the warmth and comfort.”

  “Comfort?”

  “Yeah.” She becomes silent for a moment. “It’s so dark and quiet that it’s eerie.”

  “Well since we’re both up and it is cool now do you want to go for a short walk outside to see that there’s nothing to be worried about? The moon will light our way.” I smile.

  “Okay!” She whispers excitedly.

  Leaping quietly into action, she disappears up the stairs and returns just as quickly as she had gone with clothing in her arms. Handing me a set, I unravel them to find they are the ones she had mentioned earlier. She moves to turn the living room light on while I examine them.

  “You got these done already?!” I whisper, astonished.

  “Of course!”

  The top is a white, very loose and shiny fabric I assume to reflect the heat of the sun. It’s long sleeved, however the sleeves come off just by unbuttoning a few areas around the biceps, making it versatile for different situations. A hood is attached in the same fashion, but unlike a regular hood I find a stiff piece of material embedded in the neck and top of it to keep it from flopping down into a person’s face while still providing adequate protection from the elements. The pants are similar in design, both in the type of cloth as well as being able to shorten the legs by unbuttoning a few buttons around the knee area.

  “Very nice handiwork,” I say.

  “Thank you.” She curtsies and waves her hands in an insisting manner. “Now try them on.”

  “If I’m going to try them on, you had best turn around. And no peeking.”

  “Oh! We’re doing this out here?” Her eyes go wide.

  “If we go anywhere else right now, we might make noise and wake your mother. You might as well change too,” I tell her.

  “Mmhmm. You’re just trying to see me in my underwear.” She crosses her arms.

  “Turn around and change.” I smirk at her and stand up.

  She quickly turns around with her set and I turn to face the couch, changing as quickly as I can. Stripping everything off except for my undergarments, I practically jump into the new pants and throw on the new shirt. Pulling drawstrings on the pants and bottom of the shirt to tighten them up, I move a bit and feel there is minimal restriction. Thinking she had done the same I turn and catch that she has only managed to get the pants on. Catching a glimpse of her pink bra I feel my face flush and I focus my vision back on the couch.

  “Psst,” she hisses to get my attention. “Are you done?”

  “Yes, are you?”

  Turning around I cover my mouth to choke back a laugh at the unflattering, baggy clothing, but she either does not notice or perhaps does not care. I slip my shoes back on while bracing against the arm of the couch, but it appears she’s already put hers on.

  “Ready?” she whispers cheerfully.

  “Sneaking out seems to be our thing,” I smirk.

  “You better believe it.” She grabs me by my arm and leads us through the kitchen.

  “We should leave the kitchen light on too,” I suggest.

  “Sounds like a good plan,” she hits the light switch and the light comes on.

  We exit the house as quietly as possible, closing the door slowly behind us. She releases her grip from my arm and grabs my hand. Leading me away from the house with her soft hand, we bathe in the moonlight while absconding into the night.

  With Ami directing us, we set out toward the large embankment of sand several yards out from the decimated apple tree, but unlike before where our pace was fast, we stroll instead.

  I find myself enjoying my time with her already as we quietly adventure toward the desert. Reaching the hill we step out onto it and I find I am ill prepared to navigate the sand, as it sinks and shifts around me, causing me to stumble. She giggles and I release her hand, hobbling forward as I try to climb the somewhat steep slope. Thankfully, after trying to climb up, I turn around and find she is also having a hard time and it puts my mind at ease.

  “This is ridiculous!” I blurt.

  “Definitely,” she agrees.

  Thrashing around in the sand we do our best to stand up and I move to help her steady herself. I grab onto her waist and hold her while laughing.

  “Do we try and continue or do we go back?” I ask.

  “We can make this.” I catch a glimpse of her brilliant blue eyes underneath her hood.

  Nodding, we use each other as supports and begin to walk farther up the slope. Surprisingly the sand begins to firm up a bit and our climb, though still difficult, becomes a little easier. Hunched over, our four feet work together and take it one step at a time, forcing our way up the sand. The farther we go, the firmer it seems to get and we finally make our way up to the top of the hill.

  The hill turns into a plain of sand for what appears to be a few hundred yards before reaching more hills, or possibly valleys, and the beauty of the landscape under what
little light we have leaves me in wonder. Because the moon fails to illuminate everything I fear pitfalls or other dangers that might not be apparent. Ami taps my shoulder.

  “Look.” She points off to our right where far off in the distance is a strange orange glow.

  “That’s not where the sun comes up. What is that?”

  The orange gets brighter for a brief moment and a ball of fire rises into the air, but from this distance it only seems like a flicker of a flame.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “An explosion of some kind I bet.” She sounds eager.

  “I think it would be best if we return to the house and come back to check on it tomorrow. If whatever it is gets closer we may want to prepare to defend ourselves,” I cautiously suggest.

  “Agreed.”

  As we turn around, I find that the hill is more intimidating looking down than it was while looking up. The house seems rather small, but I begin by leading the way, putting one foot down as slowly as possible after another while leaning back so that I don’t tumble forward and break my neck. Looking back I see Ami doing the same and we slowly walk back down the side of the sandy hill. Taking about the same amount of time to get down that it did to go up it, we finally make it back to the solid ground that the house sits on and my legs burn heavily from the workout.

  Finally back outside the kitchen we remove our shoes and socks, dumping the sand out that we had picked up on our short journey. My feet itch but when I scratch them it begins to irritate the skin even further and burns like pouring salt into a wound.

  “I wish we could spare the water. I would rinse my feet off,” I complain.

  “I know, so do I. We’re just going to have to bear it for now and rinse it all off on our scheduled shower times.”

  “Scheduled shower times?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You were asleep when Mother and I decided that we would have a designated time for showering for each of us. Because we don’t know how long our water will last we’re going to each take a shower once a week and they’ll be limited to ten minutes each.”

  “Well then. When’s our next shower?”

  “Our?” she questions me playfully.