by Karen Carr
“This whole life is ghoulish,” Trevan said. “Look what we do every day.” Trevan gestured to the plastic bags on the table. “Cataloging the dead? What’s the difference if you wear their clothes or sleep in their bed? Drive their car?” He picked up a set of keys. “That’s what you're doing, right? Looking for another ride? That Lexus out front isn’t good enough for you?”
Of course he was right. I was stealing people’s personal belongings, taking over their lives like a mortal ghost. But clothes were different, more intimate, and more personal. Clothes had direct contact with bodies. They absorbed sweat and collected dead skin. Before I could answer him, Lily came back with a large bag filled with pharmaceuticals. She put it down on the counter. Trevan dug through it and pulled out a box of Tylenol.
“You’re the best,” he said. He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away from him. He turned to me and asked, “How come you are so fresh and clean?”
“You don’t have running water?” I rinsed the ring. It had a giant diamond on it, worth a fortune in the old days. They both stared at me.
“No,” Lily said. “You do?”
“Yes. I thought you did too. You have solar, right?” I held up the ring. It glistened in the firelight, sending rays all over the restaurant.
“Yes,” Lily said. “But no water.”
I gasped and put down the ring. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think to check. I thought with solar came water. How have you been keeping clean?”
“Boiling water from the fountain,” Lily said. “What did you think we were doing with those buckets?”
I had noticed Lily or Trevan carrying buckets of water from the well to their apartment several times, but I thought they were doing something else with it. Actually I hadn’t really given much thought to what they were doing with it. Now it all made sense and I felt stupid.
“I’m sorry. You are going to have to move right away. We’ll find you a new set of keys.” I covered the bucket of flesh with an airtight lid and rinsed my hands.
“Why don’t we just break the door down?” Trevan asked.
Lily and I looked at him like he was out of his mind. I’m glad she felt the same way I did.
“We have to preserve it. We have to keep everything intact.” Lily said.
“You and your archeology,” Trevan said.
“It would be a pain in the butt to fix the door after we break it,” I said. “We’d have to fix the hinges. We might not be able to replace them. There’s not a hardware store in the village. Just because we’re safe from zeroes doesn’t mean we’re safe from everyone. It’s better to have a locking door.”
“I am going back upstairs,” Trevan said. “Get me when you’ve found a place.” Trevan walked out of Pizza Adamo.
“Grumpy, much?” I asked.
“He’s not adjusting well,” Lily said.
“Yea, no kidding,” I said.
We decided to abort our detailed cleaning and cataloging task to concentrate on just examining driver’s licenses to find addresses in the oval. We still kept everything in their respective bags, and just took a peek at the licenses. We had been through around eight bags each before Lily showed me a license.
“What about this one?” she asked.
From the address it looked like an apartment on the first floor of my building. Thinking of having them as downstairs neighbors meant I would have to give up some privacy, but I decided to let her have it.
“First floor,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
We walked across the green feeling a combination of nervous excitement. The apartments with the locked doors called to me every time I walked up the stairs to mine on the third floor. I didn't believe in ghosts, but sometimes I felt there were invisible others with me on the stairs, going about their business.
Lily must have felt something too, because she handed me the key to open the door. I approached the door cautiously. Although I had burned the owner of this key, she might have had a roommate or a pet left rotting in the apartment. Marissa Welson was her name. The picture on her driver’s license was better than most I’d seen; in fact it was quite glamorous.
I put the key in the lock and twisted. Opening the door slowly, I made sure to note any smells coming from within. There were always smells. There were always things rotting, but by now most small things like a flesh from a fruit in a bowl would have decomposed. Humans take longer to rot. When I didn’t smell anything bad, I opened the door a little further and we walked in.
The apartment was dark and smelled musty. Lily and I gazed over the living room. It was set up similar to mine, with the living, dining and kitchen opened up into a loft like area with big windows on the far side of the wall. The furniture was very modern, metal and glass and white leather. There was a large black lacquer bookshelf on one wall with a table sticking out of it perpendicularly. One wall was painted bright red and had an Asian symbol painted in black on it.
“It means hope,” Lily said when she saw I was looking at it.
The table, ceiling and floor lamps had shades of white paper orbs making the apartment look like it was filled with clouds.
“Look,” Lily said, pointing to the kitchen. Her face was glowing with awe and excitement.
I followed her gaze to the kitchen and the stainless steel double oven. I knew at once what she was looking at. The oven’s green clock flashed the time. There was power here, just like in my apartment above.
“Can I?” Lily moved to a light switch.
I didn’t know why she was asking me. I had as much right to be here as she had, but somehow I seemed to be the official lord of Haverlyn Village. “Sure, but the lights that were left on probably burned out. We’ll need to change some bulbs.”
She flipped the switches. Suddenly, the lights in the living and dining area lit up leaving the apartment in a soft white glow.
It was hard to give up my building, but I had to do it. Maybe it wouldn't be for long, maybe we’d find some more solar apartments, or maybe we could even put some panels up on the roofs of the other apartments. It couldn’t be that difficult and there was a solar company right down the block. I downloaded electric manuals before the internet went down.
“Wow,” Lily said. “I don’t think I can live here.” She turned to go back out of the apartment.
“Why?” I asked, a little bit of me hoping that I wouldn’t be able to convince her to stay.
“It’s too nice. It’s not mine.”
“The other place was someone else’s too,” I reminded her.
“That was different. That was definitely a rental or something, student furnished. It was pretty gross actually. I had to do quite a bit of cleaning to feel comfortable.” Her fingers ran across the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Did I really give her that crappy of a place?
“It’s not your fault. It actually made the place feel like mine. But someone cherished this place.” She walked over to an easel in the dining area. It had a half-finished painting of the green on it and dried out jars of paint around it. “Someone who was a very talented artist.”
“Someone who isn’t here anymore.” I walked over to the desk and examined the photos on it. There was one of Maureen. I recognized her from her driver’s license. A handsome man stood with her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his lips kissed her on the cheek. The man must have been her boyfriend. A ping of jealousy hit me. Maureen had the perfect life. But, she was dead and I was not. I still had that.
Lily came up behind me to look at the photos.
“I know that man,” she said. “I mean I don’t really know him, not personally. I’ve seen him before on campus.” By the look in her eye, it seemed she had a small crush on him. I did too, he was very handsome.
“Don’t you think it’s a sign that you are meant to have this place?” I asked.
She looked around the apartment and let out a huge sigh. “Yea, I guess I have to go get Trevan.”
Chapter 14: Christm
as
December 25th
215 Oval Park Place
Haverlyn Village
Christmas day had arrived and there was still no sign of Huck. He was supposed to have returned two weeks ago. Every day since then I had risen at dawn to ride my bicycle out to the road to see if I could see him coming. Every day I saw nothing, no sign of life, except the occasional newly-dead zeroes.
I was extremely tired, having been lying sleepless in bed all night imagining what I would say to Huck if I saw him again. The words were mostly positive, but sometimes angry and intentionally mean, like I missed you so much and how could you leave me and what about that girl in the picture?
After finding Trevan and Lily downtown, I had not ventured outside the village except to go to Walmart. I was ashamed at myself for not trying to find my friends, but I was too scared to go through that again. Leaving the village would mean risking everyone’s life, unless I took them with me.
My parents were too far away to reach, but I had movies of them from Christmases past on my laptop, which I played over and over again. Singing Silent Night around the tree was a tradition with us, and every time I watched them sing it made me feel sad and safe at the same time. Like part of them was still with me. I couldn’t stop myself from watching, over and over again..
I was able to get presents for everyone, including a pair of new boots for myself, a watch for Lily, a couple of books for Trevan and boxes of muffin mixes for the Professor. I also brought back with me a frozen ham, frozen pies, ice cream and some frozen vegetables, including green beans and carrots.
Lily helped me cook the night before and we all carried the packages to the Professor’s apartment. We were all wearing new winter coats and gloves because the weather had changed and become rather cold. It had snowed a couple of days ago and some of it was still on the ground, which made it seem more like a holiday. Lily and I had dug out some Christmas decorations and lights from the various shops and decorated the village with them.
As we crossed the green, Trevan began humming Jingle Bells. Soon Lily and I were singing along with his tune. This isn’t so bad, I thought. We were making progress. Trevan had slowed down on the booze, and I had tried to stop thinking about Huck. Lily was helping me hatch a plan for the garden next year.
When we entered the Professor’s apartment, I was surprised to see that he had brought out a small fake Christmas tree. It was decorated with lights and ornaments and was dripping with tinsel. The tree flashed and glittered and it was so beautiful that my heart quaked at the sight. When I glanced at the Professor, our eyes met briefly and I could see that he, too, felt the spirit within him. It was the truest moment we had experienced yet and it brought us closer together without saying a word.
The Professor’s head shook slightly back and forth. He had told me he suffers from tremors which were part of the reason he didn’t want to go out. He was embarrassed. He held his chin steady with his hand as he greeted Trevan and Lily and ushered them into the living room. He had laid out some Cheese Whiz and crackers. Seeing the can of processed fake cheese made me smile. It was so unlike the Professor. He could have only brought it out to please us kids.
Lily and Trevan placed our food on the counter buffet-style. The ham had turned out really good, which meant the frozen food at Walmart was holding up. The Professor had some baked bread, which was warming in the oven.
“Presents,” I said to the Professor as I handed him the gifts. “For under the tree.”
The Professor took the wrapped gifts, which shook in his trembling hands. He seemed stunned to receive anything at all. It made me wonder if he had received any Christmas presents last year, or the year before. “This looks amazing, Hella. Thanks for doing all of this. I am really grateful that you are here.”
After we served ourselves food, we all sat down at the dining room table which the Professor had set, including placemats and two different forks and spoons for each person. The Professor brought out a bottle of wine and four glasses, pouring each of us a cup.
“Should we say something like merry Christmas?” Trevan asked, holding up his full wine glass.
“Merry Christmas,” Lily said, and then added, “go easy on that, Trev.”
I looked at the faces of Trevan, Lily and the Professor and recognized that these people as my new family. We were living in hell, but we were doing it together. Purgatory had an unusual flavor—bitter yet sweet. We shared the same dreams and the same nightmares.
“I am glad we found each other,” I said, holding out my glass for a toast. “Professor, your good will and guidance has helped me through these last few months. Lily, I am forever grateful to you for saving me. Trevan, thanks for not shooting me.” Lily and the Professor raised their glasses to me in appreciation.
“This isn’t Thanksgiving,” Trevan said, finishing his wine in three gulps. “But if you want me to think of something that I am grateful for, it’s Lily. Without her, I would be dead too, because what reason would I have to live?”
“Thanks Trevan,” Lily said. “I don’t think I ever told you that I really appreciated the gift you gave me for my birthday. I wasn’t able to tell you how much it meant to me because, well, because of all of this.” She turned to me and the Professor. “It was my birthday the day before this happened. Trevan took me out to eat at the rooftop restaurant. That’s why we were downtown. He gave me an engagement ring and I didn’t answer him.” She turned back toward Trevan. “I’d like to answer you now. Yes, I would love to marry you.”
Trevan didn’t say a word. His eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn’t read, happiness, maybe, mixed with apprehension. They shared a brief kiss and a hug and everyone seemed to relax after that. We shared stories of our lives before the apocalypse. Trevan talked the most, which surprised me. He became more euphoric as the night progressed.
Trevan told us he was from outside of Charlotte, a country boy, but his parents had recently sold their house and moved to a vacation community near Wilmington called St. James Plantation. When he described the community, it sounded like an ideal retreat. It was gated, by the ocean; they had tennis, golf, a beach club and marina.
His parents had a sailboat on their slip that they used to sail around the barrier islands. If we weren’t all set up here, I would have considered going out there. I almost thought about suggesting it, but I knew the Professor would not move and Huck had not returned.
Lily told us about Wisconsin and how cold it was up there, colder than Chicago. She had told her parents she wanted to go to college somewhere warm. They were heartbroken when she left. She graduated high school when she was seventeen, did her undergrad by twenty and her PHD by twenty-four. She had taken a visiting scholar position as one of the youngest academics in the University.
Lily did her dissertation on the annihilation of the American Indian, which she described as being similar to the zombie apocalypse, except the zombies in the historical case were the Europeans.
When it came to my turn, I told them about my brother. He had this long-term girlfriend who would wait for him every time he disappeared, which was sometimes for months on end. She was a waitress and never really was able to support herself without my brother. When I mentioned that I don’t know why my brother kept her around, Trevan interrupted.
“You have something against waitresses?” Trevan asked me. He held his fork, skewered with green beans, halfway to his mouth.
“No, I just meant she wasn’t a student,” I said, putting down my spoonful of carrots. “She could’ve done something else instead of wait for my brother all those years.”
“But the way you said it makes me think that you have something against people who aren’t educated.” Trevan popped the green beans in his mouth and began chewing. The look on his face wasn’t aggravation, but taunting, twisting my words around to mean something else.
“That’s not it,” I said, embarrassed that Trevan was mixing up my words. “I just meant she gave up everything for him. I wo
uld never throw my life away for some guy. I guess that’s what he wanted, someone totally dependent on him, waiting for him to return, while he gallivanted around doing who-knows-what.”
“And that’s not what you want?” the Professor asked me. He got up from the table and made a beeline for his note pad. Oh bother! He was going to psychoanalyze me in front of everyone. I was quickly losing my appetite.
“No,” I said. I knew he was referring to Huck and the fact that he did not come back. “Of course not. I want someone to respect me. Who could respect someone who waited for them like a dog?”
“Hella,” the Professor addressed me with a stern tone. “Not everything is related to everything else. Stop trying to braid the lines.”
“I am not braiding anything.” My fingers moved through my hair to check it for snarls. “I am talking about my brother.” I began to feel like I was drowning. I held my breath, like my sister did when she was about to go underwater. She would take a deep gulp of air and not come up until it all bubbled out of her mouth. “This isn’t about Huck.” It really was about Huck, and by the looks on everyone’s faces, they all knew it.
“You are upset,” the Professor said. “I don’t want you to be upset on Christmas. Here, have a chocolate cherry.” He handed me a plate and I took a couple of cherries from it.
“Thanks,” I said and looked at the chocolate melting into a cherry in my hand with no desire to eat it. “I’m sorry for spoiling Christmas.”
“Oh come on.” Trevan finished swallowing and poured himself another glass of wine. “You’re not spoiling it. You are making it more interesting. Isn’t there always a relative or two who gets loopy during the holidays?”
“Loopy, as in drunk?” Lily asked Trevan with bitterness in her tone. She had not eaten much from her plate.
“So be it, my love,” Trevan said and collapsed on the couch next to her. “I really do hope this Huck does come back because I would love to meet such a wonderful and heroic man, and you know him so well. Lily and I have been together for three years, and how long have you been with your fellow?”