by AJ Powers
Clay couldn’t imagine losing a wife. The thought of losing Kelsey—let alone a wife of many years—was almost crippling anytime the idea crept into his head.
“Ever since then, he’s just not been the same man. I can see that he tries, and some days I think he genuinely is back to his old self, but it seems to me those days are few and far between anymore.”
Kelsey came back out, and the conversations took a more pleasant road for the remainder of the evening. They sipped on tea and laughed late into the night. It was a nice break from the discouraging reality that waited just outside the little shanty’s walls.
Around 11:00, both Hawthorne and Kelsey retired for the night. Clay slept on the handmade lumpy couch with a nice warm quilt that Kelsey had sewn herself. He had no trouble falling asleep to the crackling sounds and bursts of warm air the fire emitted. He could get used to such luxuries again.
Chapter 23
Clay woke to a blurry face staring down at him. He blinked his eyes a few times and saw the little girl observing the strange man that was sleeping on her couch.
“Hi,” the little girl said as she waved.
“Hi,” Clay responded as he cleared his throat. “You must be Dakota.”
“My name is Dakota, what’s yours?” she said, not hearing what Clay had just said.
Clay chuckled at the girl, “My name is Clay, what’s yours?” he added, continuing the game.
“It’s Dakota, I already told you that!” she said with laughter. She held up a ragged looking plush doll close to his face, “This is Boo. You want to hold her?”
“Uh, sure,” Clay said as he sat up on the couch. He rubbed his face with his hands then took the doll. “She’s pretty,” he added.
“Mmmm hmm,” Dakota replied, very much aware of that fact.
Something caught Clay’s eye on the other side of the room, and he looked up to see Kelsey standing in the doorway, watching the adorable interaction with a serene smile painted across her face. It had been years since she met a man who cared about children the way Clay did. It seemed like ever since the lights went out, children were a burden instead of a joy. Kelsey knew first hand there was an added layer of stress having to care for a child in this world, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in her life, both present and past.
Dakota put her finger right in front of Clay’s eyes. “You got blue eyes,” she said with excitement.
“You’re a smart girl,” Clay said.
“I know that,” Dakota replied.
“Not very humble, either,” Kelsey said from across the room, drawing Dakota’s attention.
“Mommy’s awake!” she said as she dashed across the room and into Kelsey’s arms.
Kelsey walked over to the kitchen and fixed breakfast for everyone. Dakota was going on about helping Hawthorne—Mimi, as she called her—feed the rabbits. Hawthorne was doing it as a favor for Watson since the woman who normally tended to them had passed away over the winter.
Clay noticed Kelsey looked a little under the weather. “You okay?” he asked her as Hawthorne cleared the table.
“Yeah,” she said softly. Just a bit of a headache; don’t think I drank enough over the last few days.”
“Come on! Come on!” Dakota shouted as she jumped up and down and pulled on Hawthorne’s hand.
“All right dear, hold your rabbits,” she said with a chuckle. “Clay, it was lovely to meet you. Safe travels back home.”
“Likewise, Bev. You take care.”
The two left, and Clay helped Kelsey back to her room. He fished some ibuprofen out of his bag and handed them to Kelsey who was very appreciative. She closed her eyes and got comfortable beneath the covers. Clay kissed her forehead which motivated a smile.
“Love you, Kelsey,” he said, but she was already asleep.
Clay gathered his things as quietly as he could and left. Before leaving the ranch, he decided to stop by Watson’s place. As he approached the porch, Jeremy stepped out of the front door and began questioning him. Clay grew impatient.
“Jeremy, with all due respect, this does not concern you. I’m here to talk to Watson.”
Jeremy became irritated with the surly response and walked up to Clay, but before he could say a word, they were interrupted.
“It’s okay, Jeremy,” Watson said on the other side of the screen door. “Let him in.” They all sat down in the front room where Clay had first been introduced to Watson. “So, what brings you here, Clay?” he said then took a sip of bourbon.
“Well, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I was out of line for my comment. I was just a bit stressed trying to get us back on our feet after the winter. Still, it was no excuse for me to say what I said. So…” As Clay reached into an outer pocket of his pack, he noticed Jeremy tense up, so Clay moved slowly, as to not startle him. “I wanted to bring a peace offering,” he said as he pulled out the bottle of liquor he found in the school.
Watson leaned forward in his chair and took the bottle. He looked it over, but the label had long since faded. He unscrewed the cap and gave it a sniff. “Ahhh, I haven’t smelled a good Tennessee whiskey in quite some time.” He downed the rest of his bourbon and poured just enough of the whiskey to cover the bottom of the glass. He tossed the drink back and swashed it around in his mouth. He clinched his jaw and exposed his teeth as he swallowed the strong drink. “Well, I’ve certainly had better but not anytime recently.” He held up the bottle to Clay, “Thank you. Apology accepted.”
Jeremy stood up, eager to escort Clay out. Clay stood up with him, but didn’t move. “There’s something else,” he said. Watson gestured for him to continue. “When we first met, you had asked what it would take to get this rifle,” he said tapping the side of the M4.
Watson recalled and chuckled as he remembered the dialogue, though it was a little less humorous after the exchange he had with Clay earlier—peace offering or not. “You find something other than my life?”
Clay nodded. “As I understand it, Kelsey has a debt to you.”
“That’s right,” Watson said.
“The rifle for the remainder of her debt.”
Watson immediately shook his head, “I’m sorry, son. As nice as that rifle is, it ain’t worth what she owes me.”
“I have at least a thousand rounds of ammunition back home and a couple hundred more that I still need to reload; throw that in as well.”
He still declined. “Even if you had five of those rifles I still wouldn’t. I value her contributions to our little community too much,” he said with a subtle smirk.
“Why do you care so much about her debt anyway?” Jeremy interjected.
“Once again, Jeremy, not your concern,” Clay said, his eyes remained fixed on Watson.
“Well, it is my concern,” Watson said, “and I am rather curious myself.”
Clay was frustrated with the situation. Things were certainly not going how he had planned. Watson seemed quite infatuated with the rifle before the winter, yet was not even willing to entertain the trade now. Clay looked over at Jeremy, then back at Watson, “I just don’t think it’s good for a girl to be indebted to anyone.”
“I see,” Watson replied. There was an awkward silence for several seconds before he picked up the bottle and looked at Clay with a sardonic smile. “Well… Thanks for the drink, kid,” he said then nodded for Jeremy to escort Clay out of the house.
Clay gave him a derisive stare as Jeremy reached out to grab his arm. Clay jerked his arm away and walked over to the door before he stopped and turned around. “My father always had a saying: ‘A man leads; a coward dictates.’ I guess we know which category you fall into.”
Watson shifted his jaw, then forced a sarcastic smile. “You have yourself a good day, Mr. Whitaker.”
Clay walked out the door and off the porch. Jeremy continued to chaperon him over to the gate.
“Bye-bye, Mr. Clay!” the voice of a child shouted.
Clay turned to see Dakota and Haw
thorne on their way back from rabbit pen. Clay halted, much to Jeremy’s chagrin, and chatted with Hawthorne for a moment. “Could you do me a favor and pass on a message to Kelsey?”
“Of course.”
“Tell her that we’ll meet at the usual time and place next week, but I might be a little late.”
“I sure will, Clay.”
“Thanks,” he said to Hawthorne before looking down at Dakota. “Bye-bye!” he said and waved.
Dakota ran off back home; Hawthorne trailed behind.
Jeremy continued to follow Clay to the gate. “I think I can manage from here,” Clay snapped.
“Zachery,” Jeremy said to the young gatekeeper.
“Sir?”
“Please notify me immediately if this man comes to the gate. He will need approval from me or Mr. Watson before entry, understood?”
Jeremy’s orders angered Clay, but it was not at all surprising. He probably would have done the same thing if he were in Jeremy’s shoes, but of course, he wouldn’t be the power-hungry tyrant Watson was in the first place.
On his way back home, Clay checked some snares that he and Charlie had set up last week. They hadn’t captured anything since they set them up, but that was about to change as Clay discovered 2 out of the 15 traps had done their jobs. One of the rabbits, in particular, was quite fat and would be turned into a nice stew. The carrots Megan had planted just as winter started to ease were looking promising. A trip to Liberty would hopefully give them the rest of the ingredients needed, and then they would have a nice, fresh home cooked meal, the first in what seemed like ages.
Back home, the hallways were quiet. Nobody opened the door, so Clay had to climb up the executive elevator from 15 to 16. The 15th floor once held the main offices for the law firm that owned the building; 16 was where the big wig lawyers that ran the company usually stayed. Clay didn’t know why they needed an elevator that literally went up one floor, but it made a nice alternative entrance for him in cases like this. And since it was only about 12 feet he didn’t have to worry about falling to his death climbing up through the shaft.
He pried the doors open and stepped out into the lobby next to his room. It was eerily quiet at first, but then he saw Lona come out of the kitchen with a bowl.
“Hey Lona.”
“Hi,” Lona replied with a very soft-spoken voice.
“Where is everyone?”
“It’s nap time for the littles. The others are on the roof. Not sure where Charlie is. Megan’s in bed, so I am bringing her soup,” she said catching Clay up to speed.
It was hard for Clay to comprehend Megan being in bed in the middle of the day. She must really be feeling terrible to take a break during the day. It was just her nature to work until she could work no more. She always said she slept better when she worked hard and could think about all she had accomplished in the day as she fell asleep.
Clay put the rabbit meat in the freezer, dropped his things off in his room, and made his way to the roof. He played tag with the kids for a little while then began fiddling with the greenhouse which he should have fixed already. Fortunately the damage was minimal, and he was able to make the repairs in less than an hour. It would have been faster had he not been “it” a couple of times and required to chase the kids around the roof.
The access door to the roof opened and the rest of the kids came out fresh from their afternoon nap and ready to play. The sound of laughter and playful screams filled the rooftop; it was such a pleasant sound.
“She’s awake if you wanted to talk,” Lona said to Clay as she followed the last of the kids outside.
“Thanks, Lona.”
Clay made his way down to Megan’s room. She looked as bad as she sounded.
“How ya doing?” Clay asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, but fine sounded a lot like ‘find’. “Just a really bad cold.”
“I am heading to Liberty in the morning. If I find any antibiotics, I’ll do whatever I have to—”
“Antibiotics won’t work,” she cut him off. “It’s a cold. It’s all viral. All I can do is treat the symptoms, and let my body do the rest.”
Clay told her about the rabbits, and that brought a smile to her face. Canned beans and freeze-dried meat kept them alive, but the taste sure left something to be desired. She couldn’t complain, though. If Clay hadn’t found those #10 cans, they would have starved long before the thaw.
“Get some sleep,” he said as he walked backwards to the door. “I’ll swing by later and check in on ya.”
“Thanks,” Megan said and then rolled over, cocooning herself in the ratty old blanket. He looked over at a box that acted as her bedside table and saw his mother’s brooch. He had totally forgotten he’d found it, and Megan assumed he brought it back for her. Correct in her assumption or not, Clay was disappointed he didn’t get to see the look on her face when she discovered it.
After spending some time running back and forth gathering various goods to take to Liberty, he rounded up the kids—including Charlie—and had them follow him to the 15th floor, which had a rather large, empty room. Curiosity struck most of the younger kids as to what was in the box Clay was holding. Murmurs of what it might be began to dominate the conversation. Charlie and Lona remembered it from before the eruption, but the others were clueless.
Clay set the box down on the floor and began pulling the contents out. The children watched with great anticipation. Once the mat was set up, Clay flicked the spinner. They had all come to the same conclusion: it was a game. Board games had started to become quite rare as technology continued its death grip on traditional means of entertainment. Who wanted to bother rolling dice or moving small metal figurines across an actual board when one click of the mouse could do it all for you with goofy sounds and exaggerated animation? Bouncing your thimble past go to collect your money had become a thing of the past, even before the quakes. Clay thought about how sad that was and recalled some of his fondest memories of the family was the weekly board game night. No cell phones, no computer, no technology other than music from the stereo; great times. So to find one that was still in the cellophane was quite the discovery.
Clay got four of the kids on the mat and explained the rules loudly so everyone, including those waiting for their turn, understood. The four on the mat started jumping up and down with excitement, begging for the game to commence.
“Are you ready?” Clay asked as he flicked the plastic spinner. “Right hand, red!” he shouted.
The children laughed and giggled as their bodies became more contorted with each spin, crisscrossing each other for the proper color. After just a few calls, the kids started to fall, and Maya came out triumphant. Despite holding out for a while, even Charlie began to have fun. It brought a tremendous relief to Clay when he heard Charlie laughing as he reached over Tyler with his right foot to hit that green circle. It was as if the damage done to the young man was temporarily repaired.
The game was a success, and Clay couldn’t imagine a better way to start the warmer months. Even though it had been one of the hardest winters the family had experienced, and food was still a concern, Clay savored the moment and pushed all his worries out of his head. Though there were some close calls, they had all made it through the harshest of seasons, and he was grateful for that miracle.
For dinner, Lona made the rabbit stew which everyone—even Erica who was appalled at the thought of eating a cute little bunny—enjoyed very much. Lona was quite the chef; the meat was cooked perfectly.
“Lona,” Clay said above the chattering children, “this is the best stew I’ve ever had. Ever!” The emphasis clearly indicating that he included before the eruptions too.
She smiled bashfully and looked down at her plate; her cheeks slightly reddened. “Thank you,” she said with a soft voice.
Lona was a beautiful young girl. Her smile could restore life to a dead plant; yet, there was a void in her eyes that cried from a dark past. Clay had seen that same look in Kelse
y’s eyes, and he knew whatever Lona had gone through before they took her in couldn’t have been good. He hoped it was nothing like what Kelsey had experienced, but for all he knew, it could have been worse. She never had a willingness to share such details of her past, and Clay never asked. He just made sure she knew that if she ever needed someone to talk to, he was there.
Clay took some stew to Megan’s room. Both of them were iffy about her eating a heavy meal when she felt so lousy, but the incredible aroma that filled the tiny copy room was too powerful for her to decline. She took her time eating it, both to ensure her stomach wouldn’t sour and also to savor each bite.
After chatting for a few minutes, Clay went back to his room and packed the things he had gathered for Liberty. Good bartering items were starting to become as scarce as food. He began picking everyday items they used around the house, balancing the fine line of necessity and luxury. He had been so focused on finding food and meds that he hadn’t realized how low they were running on high value barter items that the family had no practical use for. He sighed heavily as he put his MP3 player and headphones into his pack, realizing how much he would miss the hours of enjoyment it provided. That sacrifice emphasized his need to set a precedence on stockpiling more barter items, in addition to finding food. Just another task to consider when prioritizing.
Chapter 24
Clay squeezed the trigger, and the sharp crack from the rifle disrupted the otherwise still morning air. As his vision regained focus, Clay could see the tip of the motionless antlers sticking up just beyond the tall grass. He could hardly contain his excitement. He waited his usual 10 minutes before he cautiously approached animal and finally got a good look. It was a nine-pointer. How it managed to survive long enough for that kind of growth without catching a bullet seemed impossible, but the fact that Clay capitalized on the kill was a downright marvel. It was a much needed victory for Clay—a morale boost as much as the physical nourishment the meat would provide. He was in the right place at the right time.