by Y. K. Greene
*****
Sunday (Sunday is for church, ice cream socials and honoring the names of God. Not cursing His name and the names of any petty god responsible for this miserable car ride) Lilith sifted in her seat, trying to find a position where her stomach didn’t seem to be ripping out great chunks of it’s self. She glanced at her mother, in the driver’s seat beside her, from the corner of her eyes. No time for dirty looks, not now (she’s lost it, whatever ‘it’ is she don’t got it no more) Maria gripped the wheel so tightly the blood was forced from her fingers turning them into the grasping desperate hands of something dead in water. Her mother’s face was little better, remaining the same pale mask she’d seen last night when her mother had come to her room to tell there would be no dinner.
“…Family picnic’s been called. You’ll want to be hungry…” All in a monotone as blank and colorless as her mother’s face.
That had been it for the explanations and no hope of sneaking a snack either, since her parents repaired to the kitchen well into the night. When she’d woken up her father was already gone ahead to help and her mother was standing ready to usher her out the door without so much as a pop tart.
“…should have done like my Mom did, from the very start, should have told them in the womb, thought I was so smart…”
Lilith turned full to face her mother (ok now the woman’s talking to herself, can’t be good) between this picnic and her mother’s now obvious descent into madness she was beginning to feel just a little (oh my god, get me outta here) apprehensive. Her mind skipped back to the odd pictures in the album and she began to have serious worries about any picnic that involved her (obviously insane) gene pool.
She pressed her back against the window and closed her eyes hoping for the oblivion of sleep. It wasn’t to be though, the car’s pace slowed to a stop and her mother rolled down the windows letting in the cool October air, effectively waking Lilith from all chance of slumber.
She shot her mother’s back a dirty look out of habit before remembering that now was definitely not the time to mess with her and glanced over her mother’s shoulder to the woman leaning down at the window.
“Was wondering when yah’ll were going ta get in. We were about to send someone ‘round ta fetch yah. Can’t really start till yah’ll got here now could it? Just pull up front ‘n come on inside the house, everythin’s almost ready, an we got some stuff special for yah’ll.” Lilith couldn’t see her face just her mouth, full of good strong teeth (for a horse) and an amazing wad of pink bubble gum, her stomach rumbled at the smell of artificial watermelon flavoring.
Her mother started the car and inched up the hill leading to the house presumably the “old homestead” she’d told Lilith so little about. “That’s a Keeper.” Maria’s voice was still flat but clear and Lilith relaxed a little when she heard it. “They’re the best of us, the ones who keep us all together no matter what. It’s hard to tell them all apart from the rest of us, though you can see it in the eyes of the Homesteaders.”
They had reached the house now and Lilith hopped/flopped out of the car more eager than physically capable after such a long period of stillness, to stretch her legs. She didn’t have a chance to look at the house before they were surrounded by a gaggle of female relations, all gabbing at once, and ushered inside. Less than two steps inside the door the women dispersed and fell nearly silent bustling off to their previous tasks. Lilith glanced at her mother for direction; Maria stood tall and some of the color returned to her face but that was all Lilith could find in her mother at the moment.
“Ah, you must be Maria and Lilith.” Lilith couldn’t hide her startled jump at the sudden (she had to have come from somewhere) appearance of yet another woman, who had to be related to her in some obscure way though she couldn’t see any resemblance. This woman was tall where she and her mother were short, brunette where her and her mother were blond, and she had brown eyes to their green. She carried a plate in one hand and reached out to shake Maria and then Lilith’s hands with the other. She smiled warmly, the kind of thing that could make a wounded tiger feel at ease, though no hints of it showed in her eyes. Her eyes remained a deep and murky brown (the woman has no soul) untouched by any hint of her inner workings.
“You’re a Keeper, a Homesteader. Right?” The words were halfway out her mouth before she had the chance to realize the rudeness of them though she shrugged the thought away almost as soon as she’d had it (I’m a teenager I’m supposed to be rude) and focused on the odd woman before her.
The smile vanished as if it had never been and the woman turned her full gaze towards Lilith though it was hard to determine the direction of her eyes, even the pupils seemed hidden in those murky depths. “I know what’s important I’m willing to do anything to preserve that, and I live in the homestead. So yes I suppose, I am; though, I prefer to be called Judith.” Judith’s empty gaze fell on Maria for a moment and Lilith wondered if her mother saw something there she couldn’t when Maria’s frame shook from head to foot under those eyes, though she held her ground.
“Here, these are for you.” Judith extended the plate, and Lilith snatched up one of the hors d’ oeuvres on it, nibbling experimentally on of the edge. Some kind of meat thing, crispy skin, which melted in the mouth quickly giving way to gristle. The whole thing barely the size of a silver dollar and she finished in a bite, opting to chew on the gristle in the hope it would keep her hunger at bay. Her mother was nibbling hers slowly, blank expression back on her face, so Lilith turned to Judith, “any more. I’m starving, and that was really small.”
Judith’s smile returned, warm enough to tan under and completely missing her eyes, “I think there’s some soup ready. Come on.”
“I don’t want any soup.” Maria spoke up, as she swallowed her last bite, her eyes firm and imploring.
“If you don’t want some now we can always put it in a container for you to take home. But it’s best now. Besides you’re practically the guest of honor you have to have some.”
“But I really don’t want any…”
“Oh come on Mom. You haven’t eaten anything in even longer than me, you’ve got to be hungry.” Her mother’s stomach rumbled loudly to punctuate her point, and Maria nodded, resigned.
They followed Judith through the house occasionally passing relatives, some who pinched her cheeks and others who gave Maria firm pats on her back or tight hugs, and most of them with Judith’s eyes. They arrived in a dining room, (it’s gotta be just off the kitchen, gods their must be a hundred women in there) the scuttle-argue-scuttle sound of too many cooks filtered through. The formal table set for two, with a big pot of soup off to one side and a plate of sausage off to the other.
Now Lilith’s stomach took the chance to rumble and she wasted little time on a semblance of manners, running to the table and spearing two sausages on a fork with one hand and ladling soup into her bowl with the other. She was settling down in one of the chairs when she caught Judith nudging her mother towards the table, nearly forcing Maria into the seat across from her. Judith’s was face as tightly closed as her eyes while she ladled soup into Maria bowl and served her mother sausages.
“When you’re full, Lily – do you mind if I call you Lily?” (As long as you don’t call me Lily Lu, and don’t expect a response while I’m eating) “When you’re done you can go out and play till the barbecue’s ready, make sure to save room.”
Lilith grunted her acknowledgement and took another sip of the soup, it was almost thick enough to be a stew full of plump corn kernels and rich cream, and bit into a bone. Bigger than chicken and way to small to be beef, but remembering the cousin at the gate’s accent and their current mountain locale she opted on not asking what the soup was made of, simply plunking the bone on the side of her plate and enjoying another spoonful of soup. The sausages were huge, heavily spiced and she soon learned they were best eaten in a stagger bite with the rich soup.