The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  People begin to drift onto the floor in twos to dance. Margaret and the others are unpacking the St Clair contribution to the festivities - which is enough food for an army. The guys from the squad are bringing in an old wash tub full of beer, the bottles submerged in cold water.

  “Come on, doc, have one,” Peterson urges. “Live a little.” He pauses. “Odds are, no major surgeries tonight. The most you might have to do is stick a bandaid on here and there.”

  “Thanks,” Lisa says, accepting a bottle of beer she doesn’t want. What she really wants is to leave the hall, which is already beginning to feel too warm, too stuffy. Somewhere in this noisy crowd is Ed. She can’t see him, but she can sense his presence, as if her body is tuned to his frequency.

  She sets the full bottle of beer down on the nearest surface, and then picks it up again. It’s criminal to waste anything these days, most of all the few precious luxuries they have room to bring back from supply hunts. Diggs walks by, and Lisa calls out to him.

  “Take this beer off my hands, would you? I haven’t touched it with my lips.”

  As soon as she says it, she’s sorry. She can see the thought forming in his eyes, but to his credit he controls his mouth.

  “Thanks, doc,” he says, but then stands there. “Uh - so, you’re leaving tomorrow for the CDC. It was an epic search, for sure, but you did it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Doc - I’m sorry I was such a jerk so often. I want you to know I’m working on doin’ better.”

  Lisa is touched. She offers her hand, and they shake. “Take care of yourself, Jimmy. I’m glad you’re cleaning up your act. The few girls there are around here expect respect from men.”

  Diggs seems to have started something. One by one, the squad drifts over to where Lisa sits to say good-bye and wish her well. It makes what’s about to happen tomorrow real. Until now, she’s kept her feelings at bay by thinking of it in the abstract: delivery of important research. She folds her hands to stop them from shaking as she senses yet another guy approaching.

  Suddenly Ed’s voice asks, “May I have this dance?”

  Blood pounds in her head at the thought of being in his arms. “Yes,” she says, the one word sounding clumsy and inadequate.

  “Ready to go tomorrow?” he asks, as he shuffles her around the floor. “Sorry - I’m not much of a dancer.”

  “Neither am I, really.”

  Holden concentrates on fighting his impulse to tighten his arms around her and pull her close. It’s better for both of them if they leave things as they are, he reminds himself.

  The song is over too soon, and Lisa feels almost as if she’s lost some part of herself as they step away from each other.

  “We leave tomorrow at zero-dark-thirty,” he says. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

  “Would you—”

  He stands waiting. “Would I—?”

  “Would you mind if I walked back to the house with you?” Lisa asks. “Walking down streets full of empty houses is creepy enough in broad daylight.”

  “Sure - no problem.”

  She’s first through the doors and down the steps, into the clear, crisp autumn night. The full moon shines brightly overhead, like a cosmic spotlight. When she was a girl she tried wishing on the moon. Had it worked? Probably not, because she doesn’t remember ever trying it again. She makes a wish anyway - that it was possible for wishes to come true.

  As the two of them leave the voices and music behind, the only sounds are the soft sigh of the breeze and the rustling of their footsteps through the fallen leaves.

  “You think she’ll be all right?” Ed asks suddenly. “I mean, Janet’s a smart kid. She took the time to think it through one more time.”

  “I believe she will be. She’s a survivor - and she’s got Tony. And Margaret.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  Silence falls, which feels as chilly as the night air to Lisa. Ahead, the bulk of the big Queen Anne looks dark and empty - forbidding.

  “Jesus, did nobody think to leave a lantern burning?” Ed mutters.

  He lights the torch of the guardian statue at the bottom of the stairs and is swept away by deja vu. Only a week ago, he’d done the same thing while she huddled on the porch, cold and exhausted. He stares into the flame. She needs to be fully focused now on the difficulties that lie ahead. The tenderness he feels for her - the desire - that’s a burden he needs to carry alone.

  They stand awkwardly, uncomfortable in each other’s presence now that they’ve arrived at their destination.

  “It’s colder than hell in here,” he says suddenly. “I’ll stoke up the fire. You go on up.” When she hesitates, he adds, “Don’t worry. I’ll hang around ’til everybody gets back from the party.”

  Lisa climbs the stairs unwillingly. She stands on the top step for a long time. He’d called her sexy, but what does that actually mean? She doesn’t know. And it looks like she’s never going to find out if she doesn’t summon the courage to go downstairs again.

  He’s sitting cross-legged in front of a roaring fire, staring into the flames. Seeing him that way, her heart feels about to burst with tenderness. Once, she could think of nothing else but getting to Atlanta. Now she’d give anything in the world to stay right where she is - with Ed.

  The few steps it takes to cross the hall into the parlor feel like a walk toward a firing squad. But this is my last chance to set things straight. Whatever happens, I need for him to know that I care - and that I’ll never forget him.

  “Ed—” she whispers.

  She sees his spine stiffen. Because I startled him? Or because I’m here at all?

  “I don’t want to go to Atlanta. I’d stay if I could.”

  Ed doesn’t move, and Lisa’s shoulders slump. So now she knows.

  “I’m sorry I bothered you,” she says quietly. “I’ll leave you in peace.”

  “I’m really pissed,” he says. “Angry as hell - at myself.” He turns and beckons for her to join him in front of the fire. “I should have told you how I felt a year ago, but I thought you’d never go for a guy like me. Now it’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late,” Lisa says. She kneels beside him. “If I can only be with you for one night, at least I’ll have the memory of it forever.”

  Her hair - that magnificently wild hair - is glowing in the firelight. Holden hesitates and then pushes back the one curl that always escapes. His finger brushes her cheek like a wish.

  She shivers. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” She puts her finger against his lips. “I want to kiss you.”

  Ed smiles. “Maybe let’s go upstairs first. Can you imagine Tony and Janet coming back for their wedding night, and finding us naked in the parlor?”

  She throws her arms around his neck, and he picks her up and carries her toward the stairs. “Please hurry,” she says into his neck. “We’ve got to make up for all that lost time.”

  CHAPTER 34: Somewhere South Of Mason Dixon

  In the dishwater gray of the predawn light, Lisa lies looking at the faint stubble on Ed’s jawline - his high cheekbones - the way his hair swirls in a cowlick just above his right temple. She’d found Ed Holden attractive from the beginning, but she’d pushed the feeling away, and then buried it - until she couldn’t deny it any longer. And even then, she’d treated the ache of desire as if it was a chronic, low-level physical pain. When there’s nothing you can do to make the pain go away, you simply bear it.

  Last night had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. She’d surrendered control - become pure physical sensation. But it isn’t only because it’s the best sex she’s ever had. Ed Holden has become a part of her life. Maybe the most important part. And it scares her that she can’t imagine existing without him.

  For the first time she notices a glint of premature silver in his hair. She tenderly smooths the faint line between his brows with her fingertip. Some day it will be a permanent crease carved from years of responsibility. If only she cou
ld be part of every one of those years.

  She bends to kiss that worry away and his arms encircle her, pulling her body against his.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispers.

  “Yes, you did,” he says lazily. They’re so close she can see the flecks of brown and gold in his green eyes as he studies her face.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m memorizing every detail of how you look right now - all soft with sleep and still glowing from sex.”

  He kisses the end of her nose and then nuzzles her neck. “I want to kiss you all over,” he says thickly, and works his way down to her nipples and then her belly. They make love again, and this time it’s slow and tender, as if they’re melting into each other.

  The light has changed from gray to a faint pink when Ed finally sits up and throws the covers back. “I’ve got to get going.”

  “I thought Cash and Michael weren’t coming until 7,” Lisa says, running her fingers lightly along his spine.

  “The Triumph and I should be 10 miles up the road by then,” he tells her.

  “What? I thought you’d be coming along with us.”

  “I’m on point - it’s my job to scout for washed out roads and bad guys.”

  She sits up next to him. “Oh God - please be careful.”

  He puts his arms around her bare shoulders. “I always am.”

  She touches the scar on his thigh. “There’s evidence that’s not always true.”

  “Well, then - you better keep your med kit handy.”

  LISA STANDS WAITING on the Queen Anne’s front porch, with her backpack and hazmat cooler at her feet. She looks warily at the 5-gallon containers of gasoline lashed to the sides and top of the old VW Beetle. The thought of riding in that thing for a thousand miles is not one she wants to dwell on.

  She clings to the image of the big old house like a passenger hanging to the rail of a sinking ship before being loaded into a life boat. Another one of those whimsical ideas that seem to be a lasting legacy of Cindi Lou’s violent treatment. She focuses instead on another, more pleasing, idea. If she could have stayed here, she might have eventually turned this old place into St Anne’s Hospital, servicing the greater Hamlin area - after she and Ed raised their kids here, of course. She can almost picture a much older version of herself as medical director. No, she thinks, someone else can do that. I’d spend most of my time training others.

  She’s so lost in a future that will never happen, she doesn’t notice the St Clair pick up arrive.

  “Hey, doc,” Nix calls. “We came to wish you bon voyage.”

  She’s got the baby carrier strapped to her front this time, its passenger facing out. It creates the illusion that Davey is walking toward the porch on legs three times his size.

  Nix climbs the stairs and nods toward the cooler. “See you got your own kind of carrier for your microscopic babies,” she jokes.

  When Lisa doesn’t reply, Nix takes a closer look at her. “You don’t seem very enthusiastic. I thought this would be your dream come true.”

  “It was - two years ago, Lisa says shortly. “But dreams change.”

  “They’re sneaky like that - changing slowly, until they pull the rug out from under you all at once.” Nix is certain she knows why Lisa is hurting, but there’s no time to talk about it - even if she wanted to. Instead, she says, “I’ll miss you, Terrell - you’re the first woman friend I’ve ever had.”

  Lisa is touched by this display of emotion. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  “Okay, enough schmaltz,” Nix says, reverting to form. “A word of advice - these guys are ratcheting up the testosterone - it’s what they’re trained to do before a mission. But it can make ‘em short-tempered, impatient. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Lisa mutters. Nix is trying to help, but she’s only succeeded in making her more nervous, not less.

  Nix leans back against the clapboard siding. “This guy is getting heavy,” she comments as she blows gently at a spot just above Davey’s left ear. His fine hair stirs with her breath and he chortles. “I know this is pretty boring for you, bud,” she tells her son, “But we want to say bye-bye to your dad before he leaves. Then we’ll go home and you can play with Martin and Lizzie.”

  Cash bounds up the stairs and kisses the top of Davey’s head. “Later, little man.”

  “Hey, doc,” Nix says suddenly. “Take the baby for a minute, would you?” She holds out Davey, still in his carrier.

  Cash pulls Nix against him. “Better - much better,” he whispers.

  Lisa watches the two of them kiss. Most of the time, they banter with each other like best buds - lots of put-downs laced with inside jokes. But this good-bye - this is their real relationship. Nix and Cash have something together that defies definition. Comrades in arms, yes, but soul mates first, last, and always. They’re the real deal.

  Cash stands back from his wife and switches his attention to Lisa. “Time to go, doc.”

  He kneels on one knee next to the VW, with its odd, misshapen appearance. “Step on my knee and climb through the window. And clear the gas containers if you can, doc. We had a hell of a time tyin’ ‘em on tight enough.”

  Lisa crawls into the VW’s passenger seat and then into the back. She stows her cooler and backpack next to a couple of rifles, and what she assumes is extra ammunition, then shoehorns herself into the cramped space that’s left. The little car drives off so slowly that Lisa wonders how long it will take to get to Atlanta - and if she’ll be able to walk by then.

  On the edge of town, Cash accelerates. The VW shudders as it hits a pot hole and is thrown to the left. Hatfield yanks the steering wheel sharply to straighten their trajectory and Lisa is thrown against the pile of supplies next to her.

  Hatfield raises his voice over the noise of wheels on rough pavement. “You okay back there, doc?” When she catches her breath, she asks, “How long do you think the trip will take?”

  Cash laughs. “Isn’t it a little soon to be askin’ Are we there yet?”

  Lisa colors. The last thing she wants is to sound like a kid on her way to Disney World.

  She sees Cash looking at her in the rearview mirror. “God willin’ and the car holds up, we should near the Georgia line in time to make camp some time after midnight.”

  “Really?”

  “Like I said, barrin’ the unforeseen,” he says. “Course, there’s a lot of that goin’ around these days.”

  In the end, nothing unexpected slows their progress. They make camp for the night not far from the Georgia border. Lisa is sitting around a campfire expertly built by Michael when the sound of an engine disturbs the hypnotic trance she always finds in the flames.

  “Where ya been, bro?” Hatfield calls. “Startin’ to think you got taken by mutants.”

  “Strange you should mention that,” Holden grins. “Exactly what I been keepin’ an eye out for.”

  Ah, the good old boys bonding! Or is it the testosterone high Nix warned her about? Maybe I should just leave them to it.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs,” she announces.

  “I need to find my land legs,” Holden says immediately. “Hold on a tick and I’ll come with you.”

  Holden disappears, but she’s hardly had time to listen to the crickets before he’s standing next to her, carrying a bedroll. “Let’s get that walk over with,” he tells her, dropping his burden. He hugs her from behind and nuzzles her neck. “It’s almost time for bed.”

  CHAPTER 35: Squealing And Healing

  Lisa wakes with a start because she heard a noise, or maybe it’s because she’s cold. Ed is no longer next to her. Maybe he heard the noise, too, she thinks. She burrows deeper into the bed roll again, waiting for him to come back. They could be outside of Atlanta by lunchtime, and time is running out.

  When he’s not back in 5 minutes, she puts on her boots and walks toward the edge of a barren field. The moon has not yet disappear
ed below the distant tree line, and there’s plenty of light to see Ed if he’s out here. She tells herself that wherever he is, he can take care of himself. She doesn’t need to worry.

  Lisa watches the moon slowly pull the horizon over herself as she retires. Another one of her whimsical thoughts. She’d never really thought about the place where earth meets sky until she’d traveled through the vast rural areas beyond the crowded eastern seaboard. The cities were great log jams of strip malls and gas stations, apartment complexes, and suburban developments, all of which hid the horizon. And at night, even if one had looked upward, the stars were obscured by the haze of light pollution.

  The sky begins to lighten, slowly, then faster, and the crown of the sun appears. Lisa feels dizzy with the sensation that she’s not staring at a pretty sunrise, but witnessing the gears of a huge, celestial clock slowly, majestically turning. A sort of ecstasy washes over her. Humanity has suffered a cataclysmic blow, but eventually balance will return - as surely as the sun still rises - because everything is part of the grand mechanism of creation.

  Her sense of oneness with the universe is interrupted by a lone figure crossing the field, the rising sun behind him.

  “Turns out we got next-door neighbors,” Holden calls to Cash who’s peering into a coffee pot set on stones in the middle of a fire.

  “Well, do tell,” Hatfield urges as he hands Holden a metal mug of coffee. “Friend, foe, or forget about ‘em?”

  “It was the damnedest thing,” Holden says, taking a sip. “I spotted a fire through the trees and figured I better take a look-see. Then there was this God awful scream and a long, drawn out squeal.”

  “Someone butchering a hog,” Michael interjects.

  Holden looks perturbed that his punch line got stolen. “Right you are. The kid who was helping disappeared, but the older guy’s still at it, cutting up the carcass.”