After dinner, everyone stretched out in the living room in front of the fire and dozed. Derek’s arms ached pleasantly from chopping wood and he resisted the urge to flex proudly. Everyone’s stomach was full and their hearts happy. Megan held Britney on the couch, who was babbling incoherently and trying to pull Megan’s hair.
“Ow, be nice,” Megan instructed her, grabbing the tiny hands away from her face. “Touch, but don’t pull.”
Buckle lay on the floor next to the couch, looking up at Megan and Britney. He reached up his arms to take the baby, who eagerly let herself be picked up and set on the floor. They began to engage in a rousing game of peek-a-boo while Megan allowed herself a brief nap. Derek smiled. Buckle had always loved babies. When Adam was little, they would spend hours playing when Buckle visited and Buckle was always sad to go.
“You take care of that kid,” he always told Derek, as if he were leaving his own son.
“You know I will,” Derek would respond.
Derek was just about to doze off when Amy sat next to him and put her lips close to his ear.
“I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“Hmm?”
“Come on.”
Amy got up and headed to the bedroom. Perplexed, Derek followed her. His heart began to beat faster with excitement; maybe she was going to give him a “special” Christmas present. When he closed the door and turned towards her, he could tell by her face that this was not the case. Amy looked very anxious, and a little like she might cry.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” Derek asked.
Amy took a deep breath and closed her eyes before she spoke.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, like particles of dust. Derek had only heard those words from Amy once before, years ago, and his mind was confused by their unfamiliarity. Whereas before, he had been yearning to hear them, now they were so unexpected; he hardly knew what to do with himself. Saying something like, “That’s great!” seemed absurd. Because it wasn’t great. It was terrifying.
“Are you sure?” Derek asked, which still seemed like a stupid thing to say, but it was the only thing in his mind at the moment.
“Yes,” Amy said firmly. “I tested a couple weeks ago, and then again yesterday.”
“But we were so careful…”
“Clearly that didn’t matter.”
Amy had run out of her birth control months ago, and of course couldn’t get anymore. They had been using condoms, but they were the cheaper kind Buckle had stocked up on, so it shouldn’t have been that shocking that they had failed. Derek felt like kicking himself for not taking extra precautions, but they were way past that. He sat on the bed and stared at his wife.
“Well? You don’t have anything to say?” Amy asked, her tone slightly frustrated.
Derek frowned, not sure what she was expecting him to do. He took her hand.
“I don’t really know what to say,” he said. “I know that’s lame, but...it’s just so surprising.”
Amy sighed. She sat on the bed next to Derek and leaned her head against his shoulder. He still held her hand.
“I’m really scared, Derek,” she said. “I just keep thinking about before Adam was born, about all the things we took for granted. The prenatal exams, the access to supplements, doctors I could just call at the drop of a hat...now it’s just me and whatever random vitamins Buckle has stored up downstairs.”
“Women used to do it all the time,” Derek offered. “Without doctors or hospitals, I mean.”
“Yeah. A whole lot of them died, too.”
Derek didn’t want to think about that. He held Amy’s hand a little tighter and looked out the window. The street was empty; everyone was in their houses celebrating Christmas. A gust of wind blew a thin layer of snow up into the air where it spiraled around like powdered sugar before settling back down. Derek suddenly felt very isolated, cut off. He tried to think about their options. He could go out and look for a doctor in one of the camps that must have inevitably popped up across the state. There were probably even villages much like Mineral Point where the prepared had gathered. Someone would be looking for a trade; he could offer them food or a service in exchange for help with Amy. He had lots of time. She probably wouldn’t need a doctor much except for the actual delivery. Derek’s natural pessimism kept gnawing the back of his brain with obstacles, but he forced himself to try and stay objective. They were going to get through this, just like everything else. They were stronger now, more informed. Everything was going to work out. It had to.
Everyone took the news with the same shock as Derek had, though Megan tried her best to be more positive. She embraced Amy immediately before rapidly blinking away her tears.
“This is incredible,” she said. “I’m here for you, Amy. Anything you need.”
Amy smiled weakly. She looked at Adam, who looked like he was struggling to speak. Derek could tell he was trying to think of something helpful to say, but he was fully aware of just how dangerous this news was. After a while, Adam got up to hug Amy.
“A big brother, huh? I could get used to that,” he said.
When everyone else had gone to bed, Derek sat up in the living room with a glass of wine. He had just thrown a new log on the fire and watched the flames curl around it, turning the mossy edges into crisp. Alone, Derek began to let his mind wander a little.
The world will be so different for this baby. This is what it will know. How will things have changed in a year, or even twenty years?
When Adam had come along, Derek and Amy had worried about things like good schools, porn, drugs, and the kinds of friends their son would have. They dreamed about first cars, first dances, girlfriends, college visits, and whether or not to let the kid have a TV or computer in his room. Now, Derek thought about the fact their baby wouldn’t get any vaccinations, whether or not they would be able to find enough formula and baby food, and what they would do if they ever had to leave Mineral Point and try to find a new camp. Derek didn’t just worry, though. He thought about how skilled the child would become. He pictured a kind of Xena-like huntress, about 15 years old, who could hunt with a bow in the dark and hike twenty miles each day. Or perhaps the child would be another son, with red hair like his mother, wrestling with a bear or prepping a whole field by himself with just a hand plow. Thankfully, for the of Derek’s sanity, new anxieties also came with new dreams.
Derek sat lost in thought for about a half hour before Buckle emerged from his bedroom. Seeing him up, Buckle poured himself a glass of wine and sat on the floor by the fire. The dogs, who had been stretched near Derek’s feet, trotted over to greet him. Buckle rubbed their ears and patted their sides with his free hand, murmuring affectionate nonsense. Having had their fill of attention, the dogs returned to their places and fell asleep. Buckle took a sip of wine and breathed deeply.
“Big news, huh?” he remarked.
“Hmm mmm,” Derek said, his eyes still locked on the fire.
“How are you feelin’?”
“Scared. Excited. Mostly scared.”
“I bet,” Buckle agreed.
He took another drink and swirled the wine around in his glass, watching the liquid paint the inside.
“You guys got us,” Buckle said in a reassuring voice. “We got your backs.”
Derek sighed. He got up to take his glass to the kitchen. He appreciated Buckle’s support, of course, but this was not like the other messes they had been in. This wasn’t something Buckle understood or could fix with a well-stocked cellar. This was all on Derek’s shoulders.
“Something wrong?” Buckle asked, sensing tension.
Derek leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. He shook his head, but Buckle kept looking at him.
“It’s just...this is just different,” Derek muttered, trying to not sound angry. “I know you mean well, but good thoughts just aren’t enough, Buckle.”
“I do more than good thoughts, Derek, at least I hope I do…” B
uckle said, a little hurt.
“No, I know. That’s not what I meant. This is just all on me. I’m the dad. It’s a lot of responsibility. I’m just overwhelmed.”
Derek felt like he wasn’t making a lot of sense. Maybe he was just projecting his frustration unto Buckle. He wasn’t actually annoyed by his brother. Maybe it was just some of that old insecurity coming back up, where Derek felt like Buckle was always the one to save the day, and Buckle was pushing into Derek’s turf now. Maybe he was just tired.
“Sorry,” Derek said, though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.
Buckle shrugged, and drank the last sip of his wine.
“No big deal,” he said. “I get it, it’s a lot to take in. Get some rest, bro.”
Derek nodded, though he remained leaning against the counter. Buckle left his glass on the coffee table and went off to bed. He cast one last look over his shoulder at Derek, but didn’t say anything. Derek was left alone again with his thoughts, but decided he had spent enough time worrying or dreaming. Staying up all night wouldn’t help anyone. Amy needed him to be strong. Willing his mind to shut down, Derek walked down the hall and to his bedroom, where he joined Amy, who was lightly snoring in her sleep. Her breathing helped soothe Derek, who despite his tense stomach muscles, fell asleep.
The next morning, Derek and Amy wrote down their plan for the pregnancy. As a nurse, Amy probably knew more than the average person about pregnancy, so she was able to figure out how to calculate her due date.
“Pregnancies usually last about 40 weeks, starting on the first day of my last period. I heard about how to do the math on this: subtract three months, then add seven days to the first day of my last period.”
She scribbled down the months and circled the date.
“August 20th? Around there?”
“That sounds right,” Derek said, counting the months on his fingers.
“Nutrition is super important,” Amy said, as if she was giving a lecture.
Derek noticed that she seemed almost detached when she wrote down the information, as if it wasn’t her own pregnancy she was thinking about.
“Vitamin A, D, E, C, iron, protein….I know we have some of these supplements downstairs, but ideally, it’s best to get these from food. That’s the tricky part.”
Derek remembered Amy eating a lot of foods they didn’t have access to anymore, like yogurt, cheese, milk, and grains. Even meat protein was going to be hard now, what with the blood pox concern. He made a mental note to try and barter with the neighbors for their canned meats.
“I wish we had a cow or goat or something,” Buckle said, listening from his place in the living room. “We could figure out how to make cheese and then get milk.”
“Chickens, too,” Adam added. “I miss eggs.”
“A bunch of us were planning on going on long supply run when it gets a little warmer, see if we can find some farms or warehouses,” Buckle said, directing his attention to Adam. “Want to come with us? You could look for stuff for your mom.”
“Yeah!” Adam exclaimed, his eyes brightening.
Amy wrote down a comprehensive list of the kind of supplies she would need when the men went on their run. The plan was to pack bags for about four days and hike out in search of farms or other camps to barter with. It was a little dangerous, sure, but it was also a good idea to check out what kind of people were in the area and to establish bartering relationships. Eventually, Mineral Point was going to run out of certain necessities, and the only way to get more of them was to branch out. Canned meat was the #1 priority, along with baby formula, diapers, tampons and pads, toilet paper, vitamins, and medicine.
Since Amy was forbidden from doing any intense physical labor or being around anyone with anything more serious than a cold, she spent a lot of her time in her early pregnancy sewing, writing lists, and reading books that might contain important information. When Mineral Point began prepping as a unit, Annie had taken it upon herself to be the village library. She collected Boy Scout manuals, first aid booklets, encyclopedias, and books on a variety of topics ranging from gardening to blacksmithing. Derek dug through the bookcases and found a pamphlet on home birth that Amy tapped to her bedroom wall. Information comforted her and soon her walls were decorated with lists on the best foods to eat, foods to avoid, how to exercise, and how to monitor her baby’s progress. Unfortunately, knowledge cannot control the body’s response to a growing life form, and soon after Amy announced her pregnancy to the whole village, she started getting severe morning sickness. At first people were concerned about the pox and stayed clear of the Evers house, but it was very clear very soon that Amy’s illness was pregnancy-related. No spots erupted on her skin and her temperature was normal.
“It’s ok,” Amy told Derek one afternoon after a bad bout. “Do you remember when I was pregnant with Adam? Sometimes I’d feel so nauseated, I couldn’t get out of bed.”
Derek did remember. He had been scared then, and felt just as helpless.
“It’ll pass,” Amy reassured him, as if he was the one who needed to be comforted. “This is all normal.”
Derek nodded, but in his mind, he willed the spring to come sooner so the men could go out and hunt down the supplies that could help Amy’s pregnancy to go smoother. If she just had the vitamins and food she needed, Derek knew he would feel better about everything, and less angry at the tiny creature growing inside Amy who would one day call him “Dad.”
8.
The last of the big snow days passed as winter began to change over into spring. By month three, Amy’s pregnancy was turning out to be more and more difficult. Her stomach was constantly fighting to be on the outside of her body. It seemed like every smell set her off: canned beans, tuna, the compost pile...even undressed oatmeal made her sick once. When she had been pregnant with Adam, her nausea had been limited to the mornings and sometimes after dinner, but this time around, she felt sick most of the time. Mornings, afternoons, and evenings were all equally uncomfortable. Amy lay in bed or in the living room, a cool washcloth over her face. Derek spent most of his time rushing through his chores so he could wait on Amy. There wasn’t much he could do, and seeing him so helpless made Megan sad. When fatigue overwhelmed Amy and she slept for hours, Derek would sometimes doze in the chair beside the couch, a dog draped across his lap. If Amy got up to use the bathroom or vomit, Derek jumped up, disturbing whichever dog had been snoozing happily.
“Are you ok? Need anything?” he asked, hovering.
“I’m fine, Derek,” Amy said, wanting to just be left alone.
Derek’s anxiety was nearly tangible. He started to pull his sideburns constantly, occasionally wincing when he pulled too hard. Amy sometimes intervened and gently took Derek’s hand away from his face, squeezing it without a word.
The biggest concern for the village was finding a sustainable food source besides hunting. Everyone had been hoarding their meats as best as they could, and spring promised the beginning of gardens and fishing. While Buckle waited impatiently for the right time to prep the soil, he explained how to care for it to Megan.
“You can’t work the soil too early,” he said. “If it’s too wet, it gets compacted too easily, and can clump up and bake later. Those are a real pain to try and break through. Plant roots don’t grow well through dirt clots.”
“So how do you know when it’s ready?”
“Basically, you just feel it out. I always just grab a handful of dirt and squeeze it. If the ball breaks up easily, it’s ready. It’s super important to not plant until the soil is ready. Planting too early can ruin the whole garden.”
“What are we going to plant?”
“Stuff that is ready in summer. Like beans, corn, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes. Squash, too. I’ve got a list here, and the best times.”
Buckle got up and tapped one of the cupboards, where he had taped a piece of paper with sections marked “Average last frost day,” “Average first frost day,” and what vegetables to
plant at what time.
“Squash is harvested at the end of the season, but it’s gotta be before the first frost, see?”
Megan nodded. She thought about Lily’s squash gratin that she had made every Thanksgiving. Megan wondered if she could make something like it with what they had in the cellar.
“We gotta clean up the beds, too. There’s always a ton of leaves and crap that the snow covered. Adam can help with that. He’s kind of restless.”
“Are we gonna do a compost?”
“Of course. I’ve got a little bin I made a while ago from extra wood planks. Waste not, want not.”
“Can we grow fruit? I’ve always wondered about that.”
“Missouri is tough. We got those frosty springs and hot summers. Apple trees are an option. And blueberries and blackberries. My bees are really going to help.”
“How are the bees?”
“Hopefully they’re ok. I can’t really mess with them until it gets warmer. High 60’s, actually.”
“How do you check on them?” Megan asked, curious.
She had never known anyone who had a beehive. It seemed a little strange, but having heard about how bees were doing poorly all over the world, it made sense to cultivate them.
“Very carefully. A few piles of dead bees is good. It means the hive is getting rid of the weak guys. Gotta keep the hive efficient. Then I listen to them, see if they’re buzzing. Assuming they’re all alive, which I am hoping they are, I take a look inside. If they’re clustering on top of the bars, they’re hungry, but if they’re hiding lower down, they’re fine.”
Band of Preppers (Book 2): Life is Hope Page 7
