Jane disappeared into the house and came back a few minutes later.
Betty was sitting on the stairs staring across the street. She was wondering what things would be like a year from now if they continued on the same path.
Jane came back to the door with a box of nails and a hammer. Frank followed asking what needed to be fixed.
Betty looked at the rust covered hammer and the box was filled with brown colored spikes. She tried to remember when her last tetanus shot was. She thanked them and went across the street. Frank followed behind her and started working at piecing the frame back together. When he was done the door functioned again. She wasn’t sure how well it would hold up but for the moment the lock worked and the door felt stable.
The house was dark now, the sun had set. She went upstairs and dropped in her bed. She left her clothes on and fell asleep. The next morning she used some body wipes to clean off and became frustrated when she couldn’t find a clean pair of underwear. She looked for older pairs that were in the dirty laundry hamper and she became even more upset that those were gone too.
“Perverts!”
She cleaned her one pair in a bucket of water and hung them to dry by the window. She would have to go commando while checking her garden this morning.
The plants appeared to be fine. She watered them from the rain barrels and checked the soil for weeds. So far the garden appeared to be doing well. Some of her plants were producing and she had a few heads of lettuce to collect. She had a large salad for lunch. Afterwards, she went back out and shifted some compost and fed her plants fresh dark humus to make sure they would produce as much as they could. By the afternoon she had a dry pair of clean underwear and she felt better.
She worked hard and over the following days learned the importance of taking a nap. Her garden was in tip-top shape. All the plants were full, vibrant, and green. Once in a while she heard shots ring out in the neighborhood. She had never been a proponent of guns and even worked in college to have petitions signed for more comprehensive gun bills and stricter laws. Every shot she heard she wished she had worked harder. Occasionally, she would hear people in the yards surrounding hers but nothing ever happened. She figured they were people looking for things to steal. She was happy with the fence she put up that made it difficult to see through.
During the afternoon she took a basket out to fill with food. She hadn’t been to the greenhouse in over a week but figured the food was more useful to the owner and co-workers than for her. She filled the basket with greens and tomatoes. She picked herbs and added them on top for flavor in the dish she was planning. When she stepped through the gate there was a group of people waiting for her.
“I told you she had food.” a woman said standing behind a couple of men. There must have been ten people altogether.
Betty took a step back.
“You aren’t going anywhere.” a man said. The deep stare in his eyes made her stop.
She set the basket down.
“Here. Take it. I don’t really need it.” Betty said pushing it forward with her foot.
One of the men grabbed it and started to rummage through.
“What, what the hell is this? This isn’t food. Where is the food? FOOD damn it, where is it?” the man screamed.
“It’s all right there.” she didn’t understand what they wanted.
“I think she’s holding out on us.” another man said.
“I told you she didn’t have anything.” a third joined in.
“How do you know what I have?” she asked.
“Shut up.’ a voice said.
“I won’t shut up. Was it you that broke into my house, stole my underwear?” Betty growled.
The woman in the group turned around and smacked the man behind her. The crowd erupted and the woman was clawing and attacking the man. While the other people were distracted, Betty slipped back into the yard and went around the house. She jumped over the opposite side and waited. It was only a few seconds before she heard voices in the backyard. They didn’t seem to be interested in her garden. For people who were looking for food they didn’t seem to know what that meant.
She walked to the front of the house and peeked around the corner to see the woman and man still fighting in the yard. She was hollering all kinds of obscenities at him. She screamed questions about cheating, referring to Betty most likely. As Betty watched she was startled by a hand on her arm.
“Found you.” a man said. It was the one that stared at her from the group. His hair cut short. He had tattoos covering his arms and neck, the rest covered by a white dirty tank top. The way he looked at her, it wasn’t food he was interested in. No cops, no one to call, no friends, she was all alone. The world was now a free for all for people to do what they wanted and she guessed that she had caught his eye a long time ago.
“Come on,” he said pulling her to the front yard. “If you don’t have anything else to offer.”
A loud explosion rang out. The man dropped down and blood splattered Betty’s face and chest. She covered her face with her arms and waited for her turn. She figured her life was over. Maybe this was better than being raped.
Her ears rang and the sounds afterwards muffled in the background.
She looked over and saw Frank standing on the sidewalk. The crowd was watching him and a few more men came running from the backyard. They stopped as soon as they saw him.
“Any of you fuckers want to go to the same place as that poor sack of shit?” Frank asked sounding almost like Clint Eastwood.
The crowd was silent. They didn’t appear to know how to handle an older man with a shotgun.
“Dude, put the gun down.” one of the guys said.
Frank racked another round into the chamber. The spent shell dropping on the concrete; smoke rising from the open end.
“I’m sorry, my hearing isn’t so good, were you saying something?” Frank asked. “All of you leave now! If I ever see you around her house again, you’ll leave here like your friend. Understood?”
The group didn’t say anything.
Betty ran over to Frank and stood behind him. They backed up to his house facing the group the entire time. They went in the house and locked the door. From inside they watched from the windows as the two men picked up the dead man and the rest of the group left. They didn’t even bother taking the basket full of food.
“What is wrong with people?” Betty asked.
“They want the world to go back to the way it was.” Frank said.
Frank went into the kitchen and came back with a wet rag. He cleaned the blood off of Betty’s face and arms. He had Betty take her shirt off and threw it in a linen hamper. Frank looked at her.
“Your problem isn’t that you have food. It’s how you look.” he said.
“What do you mean? Are you saying I brought this on myself?” Betty sounded angry.
“Nope, you are a beautiful woman. In a tough world there are only a few places for beautiful women, and unless you have a strong man to keep danger away you are going to have either a hard short life or you will have to learn how to take care of yourself.” Frank finished his sentence looking at the shotgun.
Betty’s eyes followed his and she looked at the gun.
“I don’t like guns,” Betty said.
“Then I guess you’re going to have to find yourself a man quick.” he suggested.
“And how to I do that? Offer food from the garden?” Betty said.
“Oh boy, you can’t be this naive. There is an old and simple way of keeping men around and it has nothing to do with cooking.” he said. “Find one you like, and then make sure he stays around for future meals, understand?”
“How do I do that? Every guy at the greenhouse is a hippie that tries not to hurt worms. I’m so dead, can’t you take care of me?” Betty asked.
“I won’t be around forever.” he said.
“Shit.” Betty said.
Frank had Jane cleaned her shirt for her and walked her back acr
oss the street to her house. Betty thanked Frank for saving her life, and thanked the both of them for protecting her and taking care of her. Then they went back across the street leaving her all alone.
She was scared, worried that the crowd never really left and they would come back wanting revenge. She grabbed the basket and carried it inside. She thought about her ex-boyfriends and there were a few she thought would be up to the task of taking care of her but she didn’t like the idea of looking up old rejects. Besides, nobody with self-esteem would come back to a woman that rejected them before.
Simply put she would have to find a new guy. Without the internet or a phone she was lost on how to do that.
The next day she rode her bike to the greenhouse. The owner and some of the staff had set up a booth with fresh produce outside for people to walk up and trade for. Most traffic was on bikes and people started offering items they had for a few pounds of fresh veggies.
The owner immediately asked Betty to run the booth remembering how sales spiked before. When she remembered what Frank had said she was eager to start.
Many of the people were moms and families looking to add to what they had in their diets. It wasn’t exactly a hot spot for single guys.
After a week Betty saw him. He looked like something out of a cowboy movie, more accurately the Book of Eli. His skin was tan, his clothes dirty and torn. He had a rifle hanging from his shoulder and a military style backpack. He dropped everything next to the booth and started looking around.
“This really looks good.” he said grabbing a fresh bell pepper and smelling it.
“All of it was grown in the greenhouse. We started after The Day. Figured people might need food in the near future.” Betty said trying to get his attention.
“Smart.” he said putting the pepper down. He hadn’t even looked at her yet.
“We do have a large variety to offer.” she said following him the length of the booth.
Finally he stopped and looked up at her. She gave him the look that most guys hope for. She was showing she was interested in him and he liked it.
“Really, show me more.” he said suddenly interested in the food.
She pointed out some other items that were good and told him how to cook them for the best flavor.
“I don’t have a grill at the moment.” he said.
“I can show you.” she said. She couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth. Any other girl would have called her a slut.
“When do you get out?” he asked.
He met her at the booth an hour before sunset and they walked back to her house. He didn’t seem interested in the garden or the house itself. He ate the food and commented on how good it was. After that things moved quickly. She still had a few condoms from a previous boyfriend and she prayed they were still good. They took turns, changing positions. The sex was intense and direct. She tried to work hard to wear him out, make sure he would still be there in the morning.
Afterwards, he seemed to be satisfied. She couldn’t remember that last time sex was like that, maybe back in high school. She slept well.
The next morning she woke up, immediately noticing she was sore. She rolled over to greet her guy to find him not in the bed. She got out of bed, put on her one pair of underwear and looked through the house. The bag and rifle he left by the door were gone. She looked outside. Opening the door she ventured out even glancing over the fence. When she realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt she rushed back inside. It was simple, he was gone. She was the stupid little girl, the one that tried to get a guy to like her by giving it up. She cried, shortly, it wasn’t the first time. The first in many years but not the first time it had happened.
She stayed home that day, tended to her own yard. The next day she went back to the greenhouse. She worked the booth like her boss asked. She didn’t flirt anymore. The guys that came had only food and other supplies on their mind.
She stayed home the next week. On the third day a voice startled her from behind. She was working the garden in the backyard and thought for sure the group of men was back.
“Hey, how have you been?” he was a thin but fit guy about her age. He had brown hair, a thin beard, and big brown eyes.
“Where? Who are you?” she said moving close to her rake.
“I’m Paul. I’ve been coming by the booth at the greenhouse. I hadn’t seen you there so I asked about you and they pointed me in this direction. They were starting to get worried about you so I promised to come back and tell them if you were ok.” he explained.
“Well I’m ok,” she said.
“Hey, I’m not here looking for trouble.” he said with his hands up. He stayed where he was.
“What are you here for?” she asked keeping the rake within reach.
“Well, before Washington this would have been easier. I was hoping to ask you out but there really isn’t anywhere to take a lady these days.” he said.
“Ask me out?” She was puzzled. She didn’t think things like this still happened anymore. “Like a date?”
“That was the idea.” he said. “I saw you at the greenhouse and, well, I think you’re really pretty.”
“Pretty?” she said.
“Beautiful.” he corrected himself.
She said nothing, thinking for a moment.
“You want a date?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Grab that wagon and fill it with the humus from that compost pile.” she ordered.
“Yes ma’am,” he said grabbing the wagon handle and taking it over to the compost pile.
She watched him, didn’t expect him to actually do it. She was hesitant about him after the last man. She was afraid that he would leave. He filled the wagon with fresh compost and waited for his next set of orders. She told him where to place the black soil and how to do it. He stayed at the task and refilled the wagon continuing on until the entire garden had a fresh layer of soil on it.
“Next,” he said.
“Um. Um,” she tried to think of something but that was the last thing on her list to do for the day.
“Nothing? Good. How about we go down to the lake and catch us some fish?” Paul said putting the wagon back in the shed.
“Ok,” she didn’t know why she agreed but fish did sound good.
Paul walked over to the compost pile and picked up a handful of soil. It was packed with worms. He filled a plastic cup and grabbed his bag and rifle. Betty followed him out, locking the gate behind her.
“Where is your fishing pole?” she asked.
“It’s in my bag. I have a small, collapsible rod that works great for hiking and camping.” he said.
“Have you had any luck hunting?” she asked.
“Some, I’ve been bringing deer jerky and some fresh game to the market to trade once in a while.” he said as they walked down the street. “So what did you do before, you know, everything?”
“You mean The Day? That’s what everybody has been calling it at the greenhouse.”
“I heard that there, didn’t know if it was the official term or not. Like 9-11, I got so sick of hearing that.” Paul said.
“I went to school and studied botany. Got my bachelor’s degree and a lot of student debt.”
“Guess you don’t have to pay that off.” Paul cut in trying to point out the upside.
“I guess not,” Betty laughed. “I always liked plants and with the food thing that was happening with GMO’s and pesticides I thought it was important to learn about what was disappearing and help preserve them.”
“In case of something happening like The Day?” Paul asked.
“Yeah, I guess I was on the right track. I wish more people would have been.” Betty said.
“Well I’m glad you did what you did. A lot of people are thankful you got that greenhouse working or there would be less of us. You saved a lot of people.”
“Stop,” Betty said. The smile on her face said otherwise.
“Really, you should be proud.” Pa
ul added. “The lake is right down there.”
“I never knew there was one over here. I never got out much with the neighborhood.”
“You’re out now.” Paul said.
“You’re right.” she said.
“You know what else?” Paul said.
“What?” Betty asked with a strange look on her face.
Paul grabbed Betty by the waist and planted a kiss on her lips. She was caught off guard and was stunned.
He let her go and waited for her response.
“YOU!” she said.
“Race you.” he said turning around and running the rest of the way to the lake.
“That’s not fair!” she hollered.
“Life’s not fair!” he hollered back sliding down the embankment to the water line.
Betty carefully navigated down the grass and sticks. She reached the bottom and Paul was already putting a worm on the hook.
“You jerk, why did you do that?”
“Figured I didn’t know what the coming days would bring, wanted to kiss a beautiful woman.” he smiled at her and she blushed.
They continued talking while he fished and shared stories about before The Day. They were amazed at how much priorities had changed in a matter of weeks.
“Before, I would count down the days till I could go hunting or fishing. Now I go every day to make sure I can eat. At least I enjoy how I feed myself now.” he said.
“No shitty boss.” she said.
“I’m sure my boss is dead.” he said.
“Did you?”
“No, but I know some guys that if the opportunity arose…”
“I have a feeling there was a lot of that.” she said.
Paul pulled a bluegill out of the lake and when the sun started to set he had four in the basket that they carried back to the house.
Paul filleted the fish and cooked them with a spiced breading. Betty threw together a salad and they ate their meager dinner. The fish tasted great, she enjoyed the cracker crumbs he added on the breading after frying. Finishing dinner, Paul helped her with the few dishes.
“Well, I guess I should get going.” Paul said.
After the Day- Red Tide Page 6
