by C. S. Starr
“Dude, be nice to her. And take those chocolate bars somewhere else. I can’t eat another fucking chocolate bar,” Tal said, shaking his head. “She’s right. We’re all going to have heart attacks and get fat.”
“Don’t be so fucking serious,” Connor replied, taking Leah’s seat on the couch. “Hey, so I found this studio that hasn’t been looted. Want to go check it out?”
“Sure.” Tal reached for his sweater. “Bikes?”
Connor shook his head, a devilish grin on his face. “No, man. I want to take the Jag.”
September 2012
Somewhere south of Campbell
Lucy poked her head over the intact pillow wall to see the second boy she’d spent the night with in the last decade, spread eagle on the bed, the blankets pushed over entirely on her side, dead to the world. He was hairier than she’d noticed when he’d been shirtless in the woods, she thought with disdain. He was also sporting an awkward bulge in his newly acquired, ill-fitting boxer shorts as he gently snored away.
She had never been happier to know girls existed and were perfectly delightful bedmates.
If she’d been more with it the night before, she would have made him sleep on the floor, or in the bathtub, or at least made a bigger fuss about sharing a bed. Lucy knew he’d never dare touch her because he thought she was crazy, and regardless, he didn’t seem like the type to take advantage. She could smell one of those a mile away, she thought to herself, as he rolled over towards her, eyes still closed, and curled up in ball.
“Cover yourself up,” she chirped, pulling the housecoat around her. "I never would have let you sleep on the bed if I thought I'd have to see you like that."
He opened his eyes and blinked the sleep away. "Let me sleep on the bed? You're nuts. Look where all the blankets are."
She raised her eyebrows critically. "If I'd asked you to sleep on the floor, you would have done it."
He yawned, looking at her unimpressed, and shook his head. “If you don't want to share a bed with me, you can sleep on the floor. You're the boss of thousands of kids. Don't pull that neo-feminist shit on me. It’s a big bed, and we both had a hell of a day yesterday, and we’re probably going to have another one today.”
“I’m not the boss. I'm the leader.”
“What a distinction,” he said as he rolled his eyes, tugging the sheet over him. “Anyway, we should get moving, I guess. Soon.”
“We don't even know where we’re going.”
“North. I’m sure we can figure it out. There's this thing called the sun….”
Lucy cocked her head at him, unimpressed. “Can we just talk like adults? Just for a while?”
Tal sat up and pooled the sheet in his lap, clearly aware of his very obvious and exposed morning hard on, and spoke while simultaneously wincing, in what Lucy assumed was an attempt to force himself soft. “Okay. So we figure out which way is north, and we go that way, as far as we can with the money we have.”
“We’ll ask around. Some older kid will know where we are.”
“Agreed,” she said with a nod. “I’m going to shower again, and then we’ll get moving?”
“Sure,” Tal said, smiling at her. “You’re a blanket hog.”
“I know,” she replied, glaring at him playfully before closing the bathroom door.
***
While she was gone, Tal rummaged through the drawers in their hotel room for some indication of where they were and found it, he hoped, in an old faded tourism brochure for Conway, Arkansas. The climate fit, as far as Tal could remember from his limited geography classes. He thought about the accents he’d heard the day before, and decided that that was likely where they’d found themselves. His father had been a big Clinton supporter and he’d spent enough time listening to the man’s southern accent over the last few years to notice that the dialect there matched pretty closely. Arkansas was a hell of a long way from West and Campbell.
They checked out after Tal showered, opting to leave out the back again just in case anyone was looking for them. It was a sunny, clear day, and when they got back to the car they’d commandeered from their would-be killers, they were pleased to see it was still there, and intact, save for a wiper blade, which seemed to have been carefully removed.
“Maybe we never had a wiper blade?” Lucy said, examining the windshield. “Who cares. We’ll just pull over if it rains.”
They’d driven for about an hour in relative silence, before Tal finally thought to ask a very obvious question. “What happens when we get back to Campbell?”
Lucy pulled over on the side of the road, turning in her seat, and admitted something embarrassing. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t think you can trust anyone enough to call?”
She glanced up into the bright blue sky. “Do you have anyone you can call?”
“I can call Connor, or my cousin.” He shrugged. “I guess they might know what’s going on in your territory.”
Lucy thought about it, then shook her head. “No. There’s a good chance Connor takes this opportunity and fucks me. You shouldn’t call.”
“So we just wander around the heartland until something comes to mind?” Tal narrowed his eyes at a road sign ahead that mentioned some place he’d never heard of being twenty miles away. “He’s not going to fuck—”
“No, he’s not,” Lucy interrupted, shaking her head firmly. “Because you’re not going to call him. Not until I figure out what I’m doing.”
“If I want to call him, I’ll call him.”
Lucy’s expression chilled Tal to the bone. “No, you won’t. Listen. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get as far north as we can today, and then reevaluate. I do have some people I can call.”
Tal didn’t trust what she was suggesting. It was all a little skewed. The realization that Lucy had no idea what she was doing sank in, and he knew that was probably terrifying for her. “But you won’t call them now?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Let’s let it settle for a day.”
“We were kidnapped. It’s probably good to let someone know we’re okay. I have to let Connor know about Juan.”
“I’m sure someone on my end has let them know that we were taken, and I’m sure that information was passed on as well.”
“Unless your rat has ruined everything, and East is burning down your house as we speak and turning your precious Cambellites into a prepackaged workforce.”
Lucy took a deep breath and smacked him in the arm. Hard. “Do you really think all those kids would stand for that? Really?”
Tal knew they wouldn’t. They may have in West, if East had pitched it properly, but not in Campbell. “No.”
“Then let me wait a day and I’ll call my friend in Calgary.” She pulled back onto the road. “We’ll play it safe for a day.”
They stopped around lunchtime at a town two hours past the Arkansas-Missouri border after passing a tiny, decrepit airfield, which reminded Tal of Juan all over again. He had a wife, and kids. They deserved to know. “I need to call Connor, if you’re calling your guy tomorrow. He’ll be worried.”
Lucy shrugged. “Fine, but I’m calling first. If things on my end are chaos, I might need you to tell him otherwise.”
“Why would I do that?”
She ignored him and nodded at a small building with a sandwich board out front. “Let’s eat.”
They got out of the car and Tal followed her into the diner, which had a faded sign announcing that it had, at least one time, served the best hamburgers in Springfield. And Coke.
They were seated by a girl who was probably twelve, with bright green eyes, brown hair and a t-shirt that stated that she was a Leo.
“Just two?” she said, glancing around the sparsely filled restaurant.
“Yep, and we’d like to sit by the window,” Lucy replied, nodding at a booth. “And I’d like a Coke.”
“Two Cokes,” Tal countered.
When the waitress left, Lucy leaned across the table and smi
led coyly. “You can’t call home because if you do, and Connor gets the advantage, then things won’t go good for me.”
“I don’t want things to go good for you,” Tal said, almost as a reminder to himself that they weren’t on the same team, not really. “I want things to go good for West. Don’t forget that.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows at him, stood up, and looked around the restaurant. “Who’s in charge around here? In this town?”
“Cindy Parker,” a stocky boy, maybe seventeen, with one of the biggest noses Lucy had ever seen, replied. “Who’s askin’?”
“We’re just passing through,” Lucy said. “From the north. Thought we might see about a meeting.”
“She’s at Missouri State. Got a place up there. Where north?”
“Campbell,” Lucy said nonchalantly. “Old Canada.”
The kid nodded, a smile on his face. “You guys got all that oil up there. She’ll want to see you.”
“What’s good here?” Lucy asked him, her eyes lighting up. “Hamburgers?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “And the fries are the best in the area.”
“Cool,” she said with a grin. “I’ll have a burger and fries. You got bacon?”
Leo nodded, writing down her order on a scratchpad after setting their Cokes down. “What do you want, Mister?”
“I’ll have the same,” Tal said, trying to figure out what was going on, because it was obvious to him that Lucy had something in mind. “With bacon.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“Thanks,” he nodded, turning back to Lucy. “We’re going to meet their mayor?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “See if she’s heard anything. Tyler, you got something better to do?”
It took him a few seconds to realize that that was the name they’d checked in under at the hotel the night before. “No, Laura, I guess I don’t.”
“Good then.”
Tal relished every bite of the bacon. Lucy didn’t eat like some of the girls he knew, who would rather people didn’t think they ate. She dug in just the same as him, and he found himself watching her enjoy every morsel with almost engrossing interest.
Missouri State University was within walking distance, according to the waitress, so Tal and Lucy left the car and headed over. It didn’t take long for Tal to notice something interesting. Kids were happy there. They smiled and nodded in acknowledgement when Lucy and Tal passed them. Everyone looked well-fed too.
“What did you see when we walked into that restaurant?” Lucy whispered, as they approached the building where they’d been directed.
“I don’t know,” Tal replied honestly. “What did you notice?”
“They’re doing something right here.” Her shoulder bumped his. “It’s exciting. Kids are working, they have Coke, their leader is accessible. This is a good place.”
“You knew that as soon as you walked in?”
“Look at the streets here. What do you see?”
Tal looked around. It was clean. Really clean. Hedges were trimmed, and the leaves on the ground were at a minimum, even though it was early fall. “It’s well-maintained.”
“They have pride. This isn’t in line with what I’ve heard about the Midwest.”
That was true, Tal thought. “So what? You’re going to come in here and try and pull them to your side?”
She shook her head. “Why would I need to do that, if they’re like this? I don’t need any more mouths to feed.”
Tal frowned at her. “If you could get them to join you, you’d have more power—”
“Why do I need any more power, Tal?” Lucy said quietly. “Maintaining it is a hell of a lot of work. I’d rather have like-minded allies.”
He stopped and looked at her critically. “If you’re trying to talk me out of calling Connor—”
“If you guys were doing what they’re doing, I never would have scooped Vancouver. I would have set up a meeting with you instead of their disgruntled local leaders.”
He stopped for a minute and looked at her. “You don’t know what West is like.”
“I know what Vancouver was like.” She raised her eyebrows critically. “And I know you do too. Without stability and security, places don’t look like this.”
Tal thought of his recent trip to San Jose, and even his own home, but kept his mouth shut. “Let’s just go meet her.”
Lucy lead the way to the second floor of what Tal imagined had been the administration building, not such a different place from where his mother worked as Dean of Students at UCLA when he was very young.
“This looks like my mother’s old office,” Tal said absentmindedly, as they climbed the stairs, after receiving direction from someone seated at the front who seemed to be loosely serving as security. “She used to work at a university.”
“Mmm,” Lucy replied thoughtfully, running her hand over the marble on the walls as she pulled down her sleeves to cover the scratches on her arms. “Fancy.”
The door to Cindy Parker’s office was open a crack, and when Lucy poked her head in, she was met with a bright face about her own age with a mess of auburn curls and almost black eyes.
“You’re the girl from Campbell,” she said with a smile. “They called from the burger place. I own that. Come in. Sit.” She nodded at the chairs in front of her, obviously a relic of the old university.
“Laura. And Tyler,” Lucy said, sitting down. “We’re just traveling around a bit. Thought we’d take a road trip.” She beamed at Tal in a way that certainly didn’t indicate that they’d been kidnapped two days earlier, and that made it easy to ignore the bruising on her face. “This is a great town.”
It quickly became obvious that Lucy knew exactly what she was doing, meeting with Cindy.
“Thanks!” she said brightly. “We try to keep things going, you know?”
“Yeah, and you’re doing a great job,” Lucy leaned across the table and smiled at her. “So, I know Lucy Campbell pretty well, and—”
“Oh!” Cindy squealed with delight. “Oh, I think she’s just great.”
“Me too,” Lucy said, glancing at Tal smugly. “So I was wondering if you might want me to talk to her about trading. I can take her your contact information. I know she’s always interested in cross-breeding cattle, and if your cows taste like that burger I had—”
“Oh, that’d be just awesome. She’s so smart and with it. A lot of us down here watch what goes on up there.”
“Pretty exciting about Vancouver, huh?” Lucy leaned back in her chair. “I sat in on the talks for that.”
“Anything that eats away at West is a-okay with me.” Cindy shook her head. “Those assholes, hoarding their movies and blocking our trade route with Asia. They won’t even let us buy access unless we agree to align with them. And we’d be stupid to do that. We need East too, to get stuff from Europe, even though they’re messed up too. They’ve got the connections there.”
“Of course you do,” Lucy said knowingly. “The Asian market has really blown up. Now that we have Vancouver, the sky is really the limit.”
“With all that oil too,” Cindy said thoughtfully. “Yes, I would like to talk to Lucy Campbell.”
Tal resisted the urge to tell Cindy Parker who she was really talking to, and if she wanted to be alone with Lucy to rim her ass, he’d give them a minute. He wondered for a moment if they’d met before, and if this was some giant scheme.
“Thanks, Cindy. I’ll give this to Lucy,” Lucy said, shaking her hand heartily as she tucked a phone number into her pocket. “She’ll be in touch.”
“Tell her I’ll look forward to it.” Cindy continued smiling. “Thanks so much for coming by.”
“Are you going to gloat now, or later?” Tal muttered, as they made their way back to the car. “Because you might as well get it over with.”
“No gloating,” Lucy said, without a hint of smugness. “I just want you to give me some time before you call Connor.”
Tal climbed into the passenger s
eat and buckled up, his face blank as he tried to think of some sort of comeback for Lucy, but found he had nothing. She was right. Right about all of it. He’d fallen into a trap, created by a need for comfort and security. He’d let his nostalgia for his old life blind him from the potential all around him, the potential that had sprung from so much death, and trudged on, business as usual from the time he was twelve.
He’d forgotten to think about what his parents would have done, even though he’d promised.
“I won’t call him,” he said quietly, glancing over at Lucy, whose hair looked almost red with the setting sun. “Right away.”
Lucy smiled knowingly. “I’d never make things worse for you, only better, if you’re open to a new form of better.”
“Tell me, and I’ll decide if I believe that or not,” he muttered. “Tell me everything, then. Sell me on your life.”
Lucy pulled over, tucked her legs under her in the driver’s seat and started at the beginning, told the story of tiny Angela Duncan and her eight hundred head of cattle. She told him how they were useless to Angela, because she was seven and had no idea what to do with cows. She was scared of cows, but they were hers. She didn’t have anything else to her name.
So she, with the help of Lucy and Cole, started selling them for things she needed. A female lactating cow for some firewood, a bull to an older kid for meat. Before she knew it, she had a lot of stuff, and only a few cows.
She traded some of her other stuff for other things, and other kids started doing the same. Maybe she didn’t need a wheelbarrow, but she knew that her neighbor did, so he could move soil for his garden, which, next summer, would grow the blackberries she loved.
“So there’s this little eight year old with more than she ever needed, in a year, because she’d been kind to others when they needed a hand, and suddenly Angela’s the most popular kid in town, and she wants for nothing, but neither does anyone else. Everyone’s okay. And her cows? They’re breeding like nuts the next spring, all over the place, and then there’s more cows to trade, and Angela starts asking for less and less for them, so more kids can have them.”
