SelectionEvent (2ed)

by Wayne Wightman

  “I can't believe you mean that. The children need moral guidance,” she said, getting indignant. “Someone needs to teach them. They need to know right from wrong.”

  “Missa,” Catrin said. The little girl pulled the napkin off her head and gazed at her. “Missa, is it right to say bad things to people?”

  “Nope.”

  “Would you hit Isha with a stick if I gave you some candy?”

  “Noo-ooo.” Missa gave her a curious look.

  “So,” Catrin said to Leona, “where's the problem?”

  “They need moral and ethical guidance and religious instruction,” Leona said. “You know very well what I'm talking about.”

  “Leona,” Martin said, "we know you're telling us this because you want to see that Solomon and Missa grow up to be decent considerate people, but—”

  “I want them to grow up being Christians,” she said precisely, as though she were correcting him, as though there was a difference.

  “But it might be best for all of us if we practiced non-interference in each other's private beliefs.”

  “Is that your way of telling me to butt out?”

  “Well, yes,” Martin said quietly, “I guess it is.”

  Leona picked up the tray of homemade crackers and walked swiftly back into the kitchen with it.

  When she returned, seconds later, Martin said, “Thanks for your hospitality, Paul, Leona. It was nice to come in out of the heat.”

  “It's cool here, too,” Missa added, taking Catrin's hand.

  When they were outside in the heat, on their way back, Catrin said, “I think I know what Leona's secret is — or part of it. She's had a baby.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “When she served us tea and she leaned over. Her breasts don't have that virginal nineteen-year-old firm-as-new-latex look. They have a lot of stretch marks.”

  “That's her big secret?” Winch asked.

  Catrin shrugged. “Maybe she doesn't want Paul to know she had a baby and isn't the inexperienced little bubble-gummer she looks like.”

  “You'd think he'd notice,” Martin said.

  “Paul isn't the most experienced young man.” Catrin shook her head. “I think all those appliances gave her enough time to start worrying about how other people think. Maybe she should be kept hungry. That would adjust her priorities.”

  “Speaking of priorities,” Martin said, “I've been giving some thought to a few things I'd like to talk to you two about. Winch, you have a little time?”

  “Nothing but. If you've got someplace I won't die of heatstroke where we can do the talking.”

  ....

  The three of them sat in Martin and Catrin's basement where the air was cool. The narrow windows at ground level let in a clear north light.

  “Two things,” Martin said. “The weather and how long we can depend on gasoline to generate electricity. In other words, are we going to be able to stay here, and whether we stay here or not, we're going to have to make adjustments.”

  “I dread being around Leona when her private power grid gives out,” Winch said.

  “The weather we can't predict,” Catrin said. “The heat's taken its toll on our garden. But the important thing is water, isn't it. We need a water supply. Either rain, a river, or the pumps.” She looked to Winch. “How dependable is our pumping system?”

  “I'm getting bad gas all the time now,” he said. “Water condenses in it. The generator stalled out twice in the last two days.”

  “Make a guess,” Martin said. “How long can we get usable gasoline around here within a radius of, say, about two miles?”

  “Well, if we get into the tanks, like Paul's doing, maybe a couple, three years. That's a wild guess.”

  “What's the longevity of cars going to be?” Catrin asked. “What goes out first?”

  “Batteries,” Martin said. “Most of them are dead already.”

  “If a car's not driven, the engines can seize up after maybe six months or a year,” Winch said. “Tires develop flat sides, rot eventually. Probably a lot of other stuff. We could get an older, simpler car, easier to fix, stick shift, and always park it on a hill so it could be started by coasting, so the dead battery wouldn't be a problem, and then all we'd have to worry about would be gas and tires and mechanical problems. I'd guess we could keep it running five, six years. Maybe more, depending.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Catrin said. “What would we use this car for?”

  “Bringing in gasoline from further away?” Winch suggested.

  “So we have to adjust,” Martin said. “The bottom line is that sooner or later we're going to have to do without cars and generator electricity. Things will be different.”

  “Very,” Winch said.

  They sat in the cool air several minutes without speaking.

  “How's the solar cell project coming?” Martin asked.

  “Almost done. I had a hard time finding the cells, but it'll run anything that works on flashlight type batteries.”

  “How long will it last?” Catrin asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “But would never run the water pump.”

  “Nope. Not like we need. There's always hand-pumping.”

  “That brings us back to whether we stay here or to move to a more accessible water source.”

  “When do we have to decide this?” Catrin asked.

  “We could let the weather tell us,” Martin said. “If we have enough rain to collect for drinking and if we still have good growing weather, we'll stay. If not, we figure out where we should go. We might only have to move nearer one of the rivers.”

  “This needs to be carefully thought out,” Catrin said. “Obviously.”

  In the cool dim light, they sat and thought about their future. In the distance they could hear Paul and Leona's generators and air conditioner working away, burning up the old world's gasoline.

  Chapter 49

  One night in September, the north half of the city burned. The fire began not more than a mile from them. Thousands of ash, sycamores, maples, camphor and pistache trees that lined the streets had wilted from the months of dry heat. In the better neighborhoods, the shake-covered roofs were paper-dry. The lawns that had grown several feet high during the endless spring rains were now straw-colored tinder. Somewhere, there had been a spark, and it all went up.

  Martin and Catrin and the kids, Winch, Xeng, and Paul and Leona, all stood in their street that night and watched the sky above the city glow orange. Leona was calm at first.

  After a while, they put lawn chairs on the flat part of Winch's roof and watched it burn. Gradually, hour by hour, it drew closer and they could see huge, slow-moving flames billowing into the sky.

  Periodically, there were explosions and they made guesses as to what they might be: gas stations, trucks loaded with volatile chemicals, factories, paint stores, natural gas storage.

  “Civilization goes fast when it goes, doesn't it,” Winch said.

  “It goes very fast,” Xeng said. “I have seen this before. But not from fire.”

  “What about the library?” Martin asked. “Can you guess if the fire has reached it?”

  “Oh yes,” Xeng said, “I think so.”

  “You're taking it well,” Catrin said.

  “We put the good books in Xeng's house,” Solomon said. “Everyday we brought some back.” He stood next to Martin's chair and leaned his head on Martin's shoulder.

  “Still good ones burning in there,” Xeng said quietly.

  “How can you people be so calm?” Leona said suddenly. “It could sweep through here and burn all our stuff. We might have to go back to living in grocery stores.”

  Paul whispered to her, patting her arm.

  “Paul,” Martin said, “let's go check to see how close it's coming.”

  “It'll be dangerous!” Leona yelped.

  “It would be more dangerous to let it surprise us. Come on,” Martin said.

  Mar
tin made Isha stay behind though she was prancing and begging to come along. It had occurred to him that they might run into escaping animals that lived in the city. Though he hated the feel of the thing, he strapped on a .45, hoping it would be of more use as a noisemaker than as a weapon.

  The fire was further away than it looked from the roof, which was good. As they walked, Martin tried to get a conversation going with Paul.

  How are the generators holding up, he asked, and Paul said they worked okay. Was he having trouble finding gasoline? No, but they were up to seven gallons a day because he'd put in another air conditioner. Was the work getting him down? No, Paul said he was fine. Just a little tired. How were he and Leona getting along? That also was fine, he said.

  They walked in silence a while. Several dogs ran past, ignoring them. Two baboons appeared at the end of the street and Martin moved Paul and himself out of the street and off to the side where they could stand in a doorway.

  “Just two monkeys,” Paul said.

  “Two baboon scouts,” Martin said. He'd seen the troop around town before. “Watch.”

  The scouts eyed the two men as they did a fast knuckle-walk along the opposite sidewalk. Then, behind them, from around a corner came the rest of the troop — ten or fifteen others, some of them mothers with their babies clinging to their fur. Some of the bigger ones probably weighed close to a hundred pounds.

  “They're just monkeys. Where'd they come from?”

  “Who knows. Maybe the circus was in town. But you should have the greatest respect for baboons,” Martin whispered. “Back in their old country, when a couple of the big guys get together and want to have some fun, they go out and harass leopards.”

  “I don't believe that.”

  “Paul, whatever you believe, just don't make any sudden moves while I'm near you. If you want to pester one on your own time, you can tell me later that I was wrong.”

  Paul stayed still.

  After walking forty-five minutes, they got close enough to the fire to see where it was burning through a neighborhood. The air was sharp with smoke and ashes fell around them. They climbed up on the roof of a house that had a clear view.

  “I want to see what direction it's going,” Martin said, pulling Paul up after him.

  They stood there on the peak of the house watching the fire engulf trees and turn them to black, flame-roaring skeletons.

  After a few minutes, apropos of nothing, Paul said, “Leona wasn't a virgin.”

  “No? That's a problem?”

  “She said she was a virgin and she wasn't. I think she had a baby. I talked to Xeng. I asked him how a person could tell. I think she had one, so she's not a virgin.”

  “Paul, if she did have a baby, don't you suppose it died? Think how she feels about that.”

  “She lied to me. I'm not going to work all the time anymore, doing all the stuff the lying bitch tells me to. She probably did it with all kinds of guys.”

  “All those guys are dead, Paul. And she obviously loves you.”

  “But I keep thinking about all those guys on her. I might leave her.”

  “Does it look like the fire is coming this way or is it moving away?”

  “It's not coming closer. It makes me crazy some times.”

  “Would you feel better if you had the details, if she told you who the father was, all that stuff?”

  “I don't know. I'd like to kill him.”

  “I'm sure you're too late.”

  “I think she lies to me about other things, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “When she says she loves me. I think she just loves all the work I do.”

  “Tell you what, Paul. You just cool out about this a day or so and I'll talk to Catrin. She thinks better about this kind of thing than I do. I'll let you know what she thinks. All right?”

  “I really loved her,” he said, his voice quivering. “But every time I— Every time we— I keep thinking about her getting laid by those other guys.”

  “Paul, right now you think about the fire. If the wind changes, we could have some very serious problems.”

  “So what?” he said. “Maybe all our stuff would burn up. I wouldn't care.”

  On the way back, Paul talked more than Martin could remember. He had been spending four hours a day carrying gasoline from the station, and with the second air conditioner, “I had to make another round trip. For that lying bitch.”

  “You think your gas station burned?” Martin asked.

  “I know it did.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I torched it myself, the god damned place. I hated it.”

  “When did you do this?”

  “This afternoon. On my last trip.”

  Martin stopped walking. Paul took a few more steps and turned and looked back at him. “You started this fire.”

  “After all the lies she told me, I wasn't going to be her slave anymore.”

  “Why didn't you just tell her that instead of burning half the city? We could all end up running from this fire.”

  “Yeah, but we're not.”

  “Paul....” Martin really didn't know how to tell him what a stupid son of a bitch he was, or if it would do any good. “Paul, just check with me before you set any more fires. All right?”

  “Why? Nothing of yours was burned.”

  “But if something had been endangered, like Catrin or the children, I'd have to consider you a dangerous person. I would treat you like a dangerous person, Paul. Are we on the same page here?”

  Paul said nothing as they walked back.

  Martin wondered how seriously he intended the threat. He wondered who he was becoming.

  Chapter 50

  Jan-Louise showed up the day after the fire. She was a heavily-used-looking twenty-eight years old, blond and fair-skinned, with a tracery of fine wrinkles around her eyes. There was nothing delicate about her: she was strong-boned, on the stocky side.

  “Good Polish farm stock,” she said, grinning and showing her white, perfectly aligned teeth. “Diaz gave me your address, but when I got here and saw that you guys had a fire too, I thought, 'Oh crap, missed out again,' but the house where I got your address was on the other side of town. Then I had to find a map to find you. You know it took me three cars and three pairs of shoes to get here from Winnemucca? The cars kept dying and the shoes kept falling apart.”

  “Water in the gas,” Winch said. He watched Jan-Louise closely.

  They were sitting in Martin's house, all of them together, to welcome their new member. Paul and Leona sat quietly, and Martin had noticed that Leona had a faint purplish darkening around her left eye. Paul must have been eloquent.

  Solomon and Missa had already brought out the wine glasses and the apple juice, and just before they drank, Jan-Louise had said, “I drink this and I'm in with you guys, right?”

  “Unless you're crazy or until you want to leave,” Martin said.

  There was a subtle change in her voice — a slower lower tone. “I was wondering if you guys had a program going here or something.”

  “Definitely no program,” Martin assured her. “No one's said it, but the golden rule around here seems to be 'If you can't help somebody, then mind your own business.'”

  “And you're the leader,” she said to Martin.

  “Me?” He sat there a moment, thunderstruck. Him? The leader? How had that happened? He had always been the loner, the guy who was willing to spend a year underground.

  “Yes,” Catrin said. “He is. When we need one.”

  “He doesn't know it yet,” Winch said.

  Jan-Louise held up her glass. “Sounds good to me. To all of us,” she said. And the toast was made.

  “So,” Catrin asked, “what did you do back in the old times?”

  Jan-Louise looked at Solomon, who was giving her all his attention. She held her glass out to him. “Honey, I'm finished with this. Could you take it into the kitchen for me?”

  Solomon looked a little puzz
led but he took it from her and left the room.

  “I was a hooker,” she said when he was out of sight, “to be brief. Sorry, guys, but if you're taking me in, I'm not going to lie to you. I don't have AIDS either. Soon as it started looking like I was immune to MIV, I got checked to see if I was going to die from anything else, and I'm not.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looked Martin straight in the eyes. “Look, you gave me the option of joining up with you and I'm giving you the option of passing on your offer. I try never to be where I'm not wanted. I've been alone all my life, so if you don't want me here, I can deal with it. But you have to tell me. I don't read minds.”

  Martin noticed that Leona had gone pale. Solomon came back and sat at his feet. “What's a hooker?” he asked, looking up at him.

  “Men would pay her to go on dates,” Martin said.

  “Oh.”

  “It's not a high-skill occupation,” Jan-Louise said. “As for being useful, I can sew, cook a little, and that's about it. As for being twenty-eight, I'm dumb as a stump. But if you need me to learn something, I'll do what I can to learn it.”

  Martin glanced at Catrin, who nodded. He saw Winch and Xeng also nodding for acceptance. Leona sat frozen, eyes wide, staring at Jan-Louise, and Paul watched his hands fidget in his lap.

  “Please stay with us,” Martin said.

  “You guys sure?” she asked. “For some people, it's a lot to overlook. I'm not your regular pedestrian.”

  “We're sure,” Catrin said.

  “You can stay with me and Xeng,” Winch said, “till you decide where you want to live. We have the house across the street. It's got about five extra rooms we don't use.”

  “Fine with me. I walked twenty-some miles yesterday and I'm really shot. I'm kinda hungry too, if I'm not imposing too fast on your hospitality.”

  Xeng and Winch got up. “I'll make sandwiches,” Xeng said. They left with Jan-Louise.

  When they were gone, Martin said to Leona, “You all right?”

  “Yes.” She barely moved her lips when she said this.

  “You don't approve of us taking her in?”

  Paul still studied his hands and Leona looked at Martin hard enough that he could almost feel the pressure of her stare. Suddenly, her icy expression broke into a tidal wave of weeping and sobbing and gasping for air. She fell sideways, away from Paul, hiding her face in her hands, and wept long and loudly.