The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  Lisa forces herself to creep toward the drone of voices, the clatter of dishes - the kitchen seems very far away. Do I want to be with people? She’s not sure. Then she hears Ed’s voice and her heart beats faster. She takes a few steps closer, and then a few more.

  “I better get back to town,” he’s saying. “We got a shitload to pack up before we can move.”

  “And I gotta dig a damn grave,” Cash Hatfield says.

  There are two thoughts here, and Lisa’s confused mind dances around them skittishly. Cindi’s dead. But - but what’s the other thing? At the sound of chairs being pushed back, she shrinks against the wall.

  “What the hell - I’ll walk down there with you,” Ed says. “I want to see that bitch put in the ground before I take off.”

  He’s leaving me behind! Why? I thought—

  Lisa’s muscles scream in protest as she pushes herself away from the wall and stumbles back toward the library.

  “What are you doing out here, Lisa?” Margaret’s soft voice calls after her.

  “I need to—” Lisa looks around wildly. The fumes of the gasoline are all around her now, choking her. Cindi’s gargoyle face leers at her in the weak beam of a flashlight. “Fire!” she screams. “Fire!”

  Margaret takes her hand and grips it gently. “You are safe, Lisa. I’m right here beside you.”

  George appears. “What is happening?” He stares wide eyed at Lisa. “Was ist los mit dem doktor?”

  Lisa is struggling now, eyes wild with panic. “Let me go!”

  “Speak softly, brother,” Margaret says breathlessly. “The doktor is having a nightmare.”

  “But she is not sleeping,” George answers.

  “George Shirk - do not start your nonsense! I am needing your help now to get her back into bed.”

  Once Lisa is out of the hall, with its smells, the nightmare images begin to fade away. “I’m so sorry,” she moans. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  Margaret puts a blanket around Lis’a shoulders and brushes her tangled hair out of her eyes. “You have helped many others. Please - let me be helping you now.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a brush. “I must tend to your hair before it ties itself into knots.” She reaches for a strand of red hair and runs the brush down the length of it, teasing out the snarls a little at a time.

  Lisa is dimly aware that Margaret is trying to comfort her, but she just wants to be alone. “Please, Margaret,” she gasps. “I can’t do this now. I need to—” For a moment she forgets what she needs to do, and then she knows. There’s a tidal wave of tears building somewhere in the aching center of her and she needs to be alone before it drowns her.

  “Are you sure I cannot be keeping you company?” Margaret looks around. “I could read to you.”

  “No - I just want to sleep again.”

  As soon as the library door closes, Lisa pulls the blanket over her head. She buries her face in the blood-specked pillow to muffle the sound of heartbreak and utter hopelessness. Through her terror of the fire about to consume her, she’d heard his voice calling her name. Ed had come for her, and held her in his arms, and told her over and over that she was safe. Her memory whispers to her, Isn’t love blind to danger when a loved one is threatened?

  CHAPTER 25: The Unlikeliest of Places

  When Margaret wakes her the next time, Lisa immediately knows where she is. And that’s an improvement. She feels almost human until she remembers - maybe love is blind to danger, but so is a soldier doing his duty.

  “You have slept for a whole day and another night,” Margaret tells her gently. “But now it is time you must be eating something.”

  So much time lost! Ed must be gone by now, and he’s not coming back.

  As long as she’s under the covers, she won’t have to face reality. “I don’t want to,” she mutters.

  Margaret’s expression is uncharacteristically stern. “I am not giving you a choice in this, Lisa. It is time to be getting on with life now.”

  Lisa feels a blind flash of anger at the selfless young woman, replaced immediately by shame. Margaret has done too much for her already. She sits up and, with Margaret’s help, pulls on her heavy army boots. She’s vaguely surprised that she’s still wearing the Mennonite dress, which is now badly wrinkled. But most of her vanity disappeared about the time she started wearing olive drab, and without Ed, what does it matter anyway?

  Lisa shuffles toward the kitchen like an old woman, hanging onto Margaret’s arm. Is she really so weak that she can’t walk without help? The aroma of fresh coffee and cinnamon causes her stomach to growl, and suddenly her body’s desire for food is overwhelming.

  Janet is the first person she sees when they step into the warm farmhouse kitchen.

  The girl runs to her and throws her arms around Lisa’s neck. “I am so glad to see you feeling better,” she whispers.

  Lisa clenches her jaw to keep from crying out. There isn’t an inch of her body that’s not sore. “Maybe don’t squeeze quite so hard,” she gasps.

  “We must be as careful with Lisa as with a china plate,” Margaret tells Janet. “At least for awhile. She has many bruises that will need to be healing.”

  Janet looks stricken. “I-I am s-sorry.” She pulls away and puts her hands behind her back.

  “Never be sorry for caring,” Lisa whispers as she reaches out and envelops her in a hug. She tilts Janet’s face so she can see into her blue eyes. “How are you doing?”

  Janet hesitates, for just a fraction of a second, before she answers. “I am well.”

  Does she mean it? Lisa wonders. How can she thrive when her life keeps changing? Maybe this is where Janet belongs - on a farm with a childhood friend - where there’s a young man she might still marry. But do I belong here? Or am I just another refugee with nowhere else to go?

  The thought is like a punch in the stomach and she sags against Janet.

  “Give me a hand getting to the table, would you?” she whispers, then aloud, “I need some coffee.”

  Lisa savors the strong, black brew Margaret places before her. It acts like a wake-up call to her brain. With each sip, she feels more alert to the world around her.

  “Do not forget to be watching the time, Janet,” Margaret says. “Your cinnamon rolls will be done already.”

  Lisa is on her second cup of coffee when Janet sets a plate in front of her with two breakfast pastries on it.

  “They smell delicious,” Lisa says and takes a bite, then another. By the third, she says regretfully, “I’m not sure I can eat any more right now - my stomach must be shrunk to the size of a walnut.”

  “Wait a few minutes and then eat a little more,” Margaret urges. “You will be feeling as weak as a kitten until you get some nourishment inside of you.”

  Out in the hall, there’s the sound of something bumping into a wall and a muffled curse. Nix appears in the doorway carrying an old wooden apple crate - and she appears to be talking to it. “You okay, bud? Mommy’s sorry she said a bad word. Just erase it from your little memory bank.” She looks up and breaks into a grin.

  “And there’s Aunt Lisa - finally!” Nix tilts the crate, and Lisa gets a glimpse of Davey’s big round eyes and chubby cheeks.

  Nix sets the baby crate on the floor by the table and sinks into a chair. “You’ve been sleeping so much, I was beginning to think we’d have to call in a handsome prince,” Nix smirks. “You know - to give you a kiss and wake you the hell up.”

  Lisa looks ready to break into tears, and Nix hurriedly changes the subject. She takes a sip from the coffee cup Margaret has set down in front of her, and says, “Ah - the real miracle drug! Although I doubt it will ever take the place of sex.” She glances at Margaret, who shakes her head.

  “Haven’t lost my touch, have I?” Nix asks her. “I’m like a heifer in a china shop.”

  Lisa looks confused. “What are you talking about now?”

  “Don’t mind me. I’m talking nonsense - for the general am
usement of everyone in the room.”

  She peers more closely at Lisa. “You need to take it slow - enjoy some home cooked meals and a real bed. You’ve been roughing it for a long time.”

  But Lisa hears Nix very differently. “I kept up with those guys every step of the journey - and patched up more than one of them. I was never a burden, and I won’t be now! Give me another day and I’ll be out of your way.”

  “Are you trying to convince me you’ve got brain damage?” Nix interrupts. “Because it’s working. Simmer down, Terrell, right now.”

  “WHY AM I OUT HERE?” Lisa sighs. “You’ve got your minions to do this.”

  Nix sits back on her knees in the space between two rows of truly impressive tomato plants, and wipes her forehead with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. Next to her is an old plastic laundry basket, half full of ripe tomatoes. “I do,” she agrees, “But you’ll notice I’m out here picking, too. Everybody on the farm works, Terrell - no exceptions.”

  “I’m a guest,” Lisa points out. “I won’t be here much longer.”

  “Okay, let’s put it another way - you need fresh air and exercise. I’m just helping you recuperate.”

  “I like the way Margaret helps me better.”

  “Yeah - she’s the nurse. I’m the physical therapist. Now shut up and pick tomatoes.”

  Lisa drops to her knees at the beginning of the next row. At ground level, the plants seem the size of small trees and stretch ahead of her in a long, green tunnel. She begins plucking ripe tomatoes and placing each one carefully in an old, split wood bushel basket.

  Nix peers through the pungent leaves. “Hey, grab the green ones, too.”

  “Why? They’re not ripe yet.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got to beat the first frost or they’ll turn to mush on the vine. Margaret wraps the green tomatoes in paper and puts them in a dark place - and they turn red.”

  “We are needing more in the kitchen,” Janet’s voice announces.

  A break, at last! Lisa stands and puts her hands to the small of her back before stretching. But what really hurts are her still-healing knees.

  Next to Janet stands George. “You are becoming a farmer already, Frau Doktor,” he calls cheerfully.

  Lisa gives him a sharp glance, but he seems to be innocent of any sarcasm.

  Nix pops up. “I thought they needed these tomatoes in the kitchen?”

  George Shirk bristles a little at Nix’s criticism. Lisa has noticed that the two of them have a strained relationship - which isn’t exactly surprising. It seems, though, that the only time George expresses indignation is on matters of what he sees as morals and propriety.

  Now, he silently picks up the laundry basket, which is so heavy that it sags a bit in the middle.

  “May I have your basket also?” Janet asks Lisa.

  “Uh - I guess so - but it’s only half full.” Lisa is already feeling tired, but she’s not about to show it.

  “Hey—” Nix calls to her. “Go sit in the shade. I’ll give Davey his lunch while these two unload the baskets and bring them back.”

  Lisa drops to the patch of shaded grass with a sigh. She leans back on her elbows and watches Davey, who always makes her feel better. He hangs from a tree branch, his chubby little legs dangling from the baby carrier Cash fashioned out of odd bits and pieces of another old back pack. A wild canary flies from a branch close to Davey and he reaches toward it, wiggling his fingers and crowing with delight.

  “Don’t get any ideas, bud,” Nix says to her son as she removes him from the carrier. “People can’t fly.”

  Davey chortles as if he understands his mother’s joke.

  Nix nonchalantly begins to breastfeed the baby before she speaks. “Did I ever tell you how Cash fell out of a tree and into my life?” Then she turns her face to catch the breeze as if she’s already forgotten she asked a question.

  “So - Cash literally fell for you? That’s a plot twist you wouldn’t believe if you read it in a book.”

  Nix shifts Davey to her other breast. “To be honest, my first thought was, jeez, another damn kid to feed.” She smiles ruefully. “It wasn’t long before I wondered how I’d ever managed without him. At last there was someone on this damn farm who had my back - but it’s more than that. He and I have the same - I don’t know - world view? Sense of humor? All I know is that it feels great to be with someone who really gets me.”

  This is the last thing Lisa wants to hear about. She’s pretty sure she and Ed Holden never got each other. Perhaps she’d convinced herself of something like that, but looking back, she can see it for what it was - they’d just found a way to work as a team toward a common goal. And wanting sex with someone is not love. So how had she deluded herself that maybe - just maybe - the two of them could—

  Now that she can think straight again, she sees clearly that him saving her was all about duty and honor. Those few minutes being rocked in his arms meant nothing. It was just basic human decency on his part. As soon as she was in a secure place, he packed up and took off. She’d heard him say it with her own ears.

  She shifts her attention to the sky with its towering cumulus clouds against an intense autumn blue. But she can’t stop thinking about the kind of limbo she’s living in. She’s made zero progress on finding useful information on Geezer, her search is over, and she’s been abandoned by the one person she thought she could trust.

  It takes a minute before she realizes that Nix has stopped talking.

  “What are you thinking about?” Nix asks bluntly, staring at her with those dark, penetrating eyes.

  Lisa says the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t what’s actually going on in her head. “Janet and George. They seem to be getting on well. Do you think they’ll end up married after all?”

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Nix says at once.

  “Why not?” Lisa shoots back. “It seems logical for their circumstances.”

  Nix hoots. “Logical and George should never be used in the same sentence. At least not our meaning of the word.” She puts the baby over her shoulder, expertly massages his back in just the right place, and he burps. Nix cradles him in her arms again and rocks back and forth until his eyes close.

  “All other issues aside,” Nix continues, “There’s one insurmountable problem, as far as George is concerned.”

  “What?” Lisa asks irritably as Nix doesn’t immediately elaborate.

  “Nobody to marry them!” Nix looks angry just saying the words. “That stupid attitude robbed Margaret of her only chance for some kind of traditional life.”

  This time, Lisa holds on to her patience until Nix explains. “Four kids showed up here right after Geezer - Brittany, her sister, and two guys. Doug was sick as a dog - turns out he just loved to huff spray paint. If Margaret and I hadn’t watched him that first night he’d probably have died then.” Nix has a far away expression. “Eventually Doug got clean and stayed that way - and he and Margaret became inseparable.”

  Lisa tries to imagine Margaret as a teen-age girl in love - and can’t.

  “Maybe I should have kept Margaret out of it - maybe what happened later was my fault.” Nix takes a deep breath. “Doug’s lungs were really screwed up with the huffing thing. They wanted to get married while they still could be together. Predictably, George went ballistic.” Nix looks like she’d like to go find him now and smack him. “No real preacher, no way. And that attitude effectively doomed him and all his siblings to a life without families of their own.”

  Lisa is pretty sure she knows how this story ends, but she asks anyway. “What happened?”

  Nix utters only two words. “Doug died.”

  “That’s sad - tragic,” Lisa murmurs.

  “Yeah - but here’s the irony. When Cash and I got married, we asked George to do the honors - and he did.”

  Lisa thinks about that for a minute. “You’ve got a house full of teenagers. Sooner or later, this subject will come up again. Will George keep
on being the minister, but never the groom?”

  Nix shakes her head, and then freezes when Davey stirs in his sleep. “I don’t think he’ll do it again,” she whispers. “And so what? We’ll just go to Plan B - the Quaker method. Unless you buy into clergymen’s monopoly on the sacraments, a marriage ceremony is basically two people swearing to God in front of witnesses to have each other’s backs for a lifetime.”

  “Simple solution,” Lisa comments. “But one George will never participate in, I gather.”

  “You got it.” Nix agrees. “Janet’s gonna have to look elsewhere.” She grins. “Shouldn’t be a problem. The girl is drop dead gorgeous.”

  The pot calling the kettle black, Lisa thinks sourly. Aloud she says, “That’s true. You’ve got a surplus of young men, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re telling me. If some women don’t show up soon, they’ll have to do that Seven Brides For Seven Brothers thing, and drag some back here.”

  “That’s - that’s—”

  “Oh, relax, Terrell! I’m kidding.” Nix lays a still-sleeping Davey on the tattered quilt. “Let’s get the rest of these picked. It’s beginning to bore the hell out of me.”

  A WEEK LATER, LISA walks down to the fishing pond before supper. Living with the squad, she’s gotten used to the lack of solitude, and there’s little to be found in the St Clair farmhouse. But out here, there’s so much space it’s easy to find a spot to be alone for awhile and do some thinking. The sad fact is, Lisa has no idea what comes next. As much as she loves the people she’s come to know, she doesn’t really belong here. She might as well be marooned on a deserted island. No closer to finding an answer to the existential threat of Geezer, no way of finding family or friends - limbo.

  Lisa takes off her army boots and sits on the edge of the homemade dock, feeling the cooler air over the water on the soles of her feet. She shifts her position slightly so she’s balanced on the very edge. The pond is cloudy with sediment. She wonders just how deep it is. What if I just slipped into the water and swam out to the middle? It would be deep enough there. Deep enough for what? She leans forward and stretches her legs, trying to touch the water with her toes. A slight miscalculation in weight distribution, possibly clumsiness on her part - or maybe something else - and she lands in the pond with a splash.