“Zach,” Mr. Ray said more gently. “Go ahead and survey the area. Make certain we’re safe.”
“Yes, sir.
Touch Me Fall
Chapter Eighteen
THE SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY echoed the silence in Provo after the proclamation. A willing silence. Lizzie carried a small stack of books she had pulled off the shelves and settled into a hideous brown arm chair with frayed orange embroidery. It was comfortable at least. Lizzie wasn't much of a reader recently, but Betsy had messaged her to meet here and Lizzie thought it best to look like she was here for reading. Maybe seven books was overkill, though.
She sat down in a comfy chair with the stack of books that she’d found interesting. She wasn’t sure she’d read any of them. Wuthering Heights lay on the top, a dark gothic book. Lizzie snorted out loud at the first line she read. “Wretched inmates!” I ejaculated, mentally.
She covered her mouth and looked around, but nobody was anywhere near this section of the library. “Wuthering Heights” was not for her, she slid it to the side and picked up the next book. The Plague by Camus. She lost track of time as she read. Think what it must be for a dying man trapped behind hundreds of walls all sizzling with heat. Lizzie let her eyes fall closed. Trapped behind hundreds of walls.
“Lizzie?”
Lizzie jerked upright. “Betsy.”
“Find anything good?”
Lizzie held up the book. She pulled a hundred dollar bill her father had given her ‘for emergencies’ out of her purse and used it for a book mark.
“Ahhh…” Betsy smirked. “Believe it or not, I loved that book in high school.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Dark enough for you?”
Lizzie stuck out her tongue. “Maybe. But not yet. You want to go for a coffee or something?”
Betsy passed Lizzie a note. I’m leaving. Out of town. Not going to live in a place like this.
“Let me put these back.” She scribbled an answer on Betsy’s note. When?
Betsy shrugged.
Lizzie put everything but The Plague back and took it to the check out. The librarian gave her a knowing smile.
Outside, Betsy put her arm over Lizzie’s shoulder and sighed. “I think you’re the only person I’m going to miss.”
“Don’t know how I can stand the birthing classes without you.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of them. Figure it out.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
“Just say bibbity, bobbity, boo!”
“Thanks, fairy godmother. Can you get me a prince, too?”
“Do you want a prince?” Betsy asked pointedly.
“Actually, I think I already found one.”
“Funny, that’s not really an answer to my question.”
“Isn’t it?” Lizzie’s fingers twisted together. “I have a better question. Where will you go?”
For a moment Lizzie saw doubt and anxiety behind Betsy’s tough exterior. “North Northwest.”
“Stay away from Boise and Caldwell.”
“Figured I’d go through Oregon, out to the coast. Your description of Bellingham and Seattle sounds pretty nice. Compared to this anyway.”
“We’re safe here.” Lizzie heard the lie in her own voice. “What about your baby?”
“Safe from what?”
Lizzie didn’t answer, if she waited would Betsy answer her question?
Betsy reached out to her. “You’ll figure it out.”
Lizzie hugged her friend. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Come with me.
“I want to, but...” She slid her finger across the GlenPhone screen and scanned down to Glen. “Take this number. When you get to Oregon. If you need anything, call Glen.”
Betsy wrote it on book checkout paper and slipped it in her pocket. “Who’s Glen?”
“A life saver most of the time.” She blinked back tears. “And call me, too.”
She should just go with Betsy. Leave. Rachael wouldn’t mind. Not too much. Saj would. But he’d probably forget soon enough. “Take care of yourself.”
Lizzie pushed open the door to her father’s office. “Dad? Can I talk to you?”
“Of course, Elizabeth.”
“I mean as a citizen.”
“What can I do for you as-” Her father raised his eyebrows as he spun his desk topper around, “the new Provincial Utah Government Secretary of Resources?”
This Provo government was such a sham, but it was her father's job, so she bit her lip. Then the smirk on his face told her he thought the same thing. She let loose a laugh and he joined in. “How many people are in Provo?”
“Proper? Well, let’s see. The last count says 47,734.”
“Do they all have names?”
“I’m sure they do. Well, there was a baby born this morning. Might not have a name yet. That baby you’re carrying…”
“But do we know the names of all the people alive in Provo?” Lizzie asked, as she sat in his comfy visitor’s chair, “Is there a list?”
“I’m sure there are lists, Elizabeth. Maybe if you told me what this was about I could help you more.”
Lizzie jerked back up to her feet. “When I ran away last time. I saw a body. It wasn’t like the other bodies. Not a suicide. Hands all twisted.” Lizzie tried to show him what she’d seen using her own body. “Somebody killed him and dumped his body.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know somebody dumped the body?”
“Tracks in the snow, also no snow on the body.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I didn’t want to report it. What if whoever did it found out?” She shook her head. She was sweating now. “But I can’t get his face out of my mind. I keep drawing it.”
“Do you have the drawings?”
“Yeah.” Lizzie pulled her courier bag onto her lap and undid the fasteners. “What if someone is missing their husband? Their father? Or maybe the guy deserved to die. Maybe he was an abuser, a rapist… Shit. I don’t know.”
“I wonder if there is a Provincial Utah Government Secretary of Population. I doubt it. Maybe that lady who assigns jobs?” His forehead scrunched as he considered it.
“I don’t want to see La Fever again!”
“I don’t know if they deal with anybody but the newcomers. What we need is a real census.”
Lizzie’s brain spun with ideas. “Can I volunteer? It would get me out. Keep me moving like the childbirth classes say I’m supposed to.”
“And you wouldn’t have to be cooped up with a bunch of squealing pregos, right?”
“Did I say that?”
“No. You didn’t have to.” He drummed his fingers on his desk. “I think you’ll have to ask LaFevbre or her boss. Anyone else you think would want to help—?”
“Who’s her boss?”
“Mr. Ray now, maybe. Any of the other ‘pregos’ that might fit?”
Lizzie shook her head. If only Betsy was staying. “I don’t think so.” Could she stand working with them? They were so earnest. Such desire to procreate, to further the species. And most of them were Mormon to the core.
Lizzie never imagined she would be one of those door knockers. Government census was bad enough, but bringing one of her fellow students around with her—no way. There was a line she would not cross. But at last a useful job, and maybe one that would solve a murder, or at least give someone who was missing the dead man peace.
Zeke's was busy today. People filled more than half the tables and a few were seated on the stools at the counter as well. Lizzie’s stomach was growling as she smelled the burgers. Her stomach didn’t remember that certain foods gave her pregnant body heartburn, but her brain did. Jess shoved through the door and bells jangled to announce her. She slid into the booth next to Lizzie. “You order?”
“Yup. Your fave—the Messie Jessie.” She shoved the other pie-shake toward Jess. “So I can have some of your fries
.”
Jess grinned. “I take it you ordered something healthy?”
Lizzie nodded. “The Today I’m Vegan. As healthy as it gets here.”
Jess played with her shake. “I got a weird question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“You won’t judge me?”
“No,” Lizzie laughed. “I will judge you. I’m human.”
“Never mind.” Her face glowed pink.
“Come on, Jess,” Lizzie whined. “I’m a dick, okay? But don’t leave me hanging. You tell me your secret and I’ll tell you one.”
“It’s not really a secret.” Jess blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Okay. Shit.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened at the sound of Jess swearing—about as common an occurrence as Halley's Comet. “Come on. Can’t be that bad.” Lizzie reached out and squeezed Jess’ hand.
“Am I too young for your dad?” Her eyes zoned in on Lizzie.
“What?” Lizzie pulled her hands away. “You’re kidding, right?”
Jess’ face fell. “Stupid me. Shouldn’t have said anything.”
Lizzie’s heart lurched. How to fix this? “Jess. I love you, ‘kay?” She held out her hands for Jess’ again. “I mean it’s weird, but it’s none of my business, really.” Keep your face straight, Lizzie. But the picture of Jess and her dad together made it tough.
Jess kept her hands under the table.
“So are you my new step-mom?” Lizzie nudged her.
Finally, Jess cracked a smile and reached out for Lizzie’s hands. “Sorry. I won’t be the source of an endless running step-mom joke. I don’t think your dad likes me back—at least he has made it pretty clear he doesn’t want me around.”
“You talked to him about it?”
Jess didn’t respond.
“Wow.” Lizzie pondered. Was it any different now that she knew they’d talked? Lizzie wasn’t very good at kind interventions. “Think about it this way. How long since you lost your family? We’re all still in shock. My dad lost Isabel, the love of his life. Are you done mourning?”
“Maybe that’s it.” Jess wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Lizzie slid out of her side of the table and slid in next to Jess, holding her as she got composed. Jess returned the hug, clinging to Lizzie before letting her go.
“Thanks.” Jess sucked on her shake. “I guess I have been coming on a little strong.”
“Jess—ew!” Lizzie wrinkled her nose, but winked at Jess to let her know she was kidding. Mostly. “We’re lucky. You and I. Most people hardly have anybody left from before the Quieting.” She switched gears before she got started perseverating about her own dead. “I know. We’ll find you a nice Mormon church boy.”
But Jess didn’t respond like Lizzie expected. Instead she got a faraway look in her eyes. “I do kinda miss church. When I was a kid, it always seemed like there was somebody looking out for us.” She went back to jamming the straw up and down in the shake. “Okay. Enough. Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Sure.” An idea blossomed in Lizzie’s head. “We need our own church. Like the church of the left behind.”
“Sounds too spooky.”
“How about the Church of the Breakfast Club?”
Jess giggled. “Sacrilegious. But fun.”
“Perfect.”
“When do we meet?”
“Saturday of course.” Maybe she could get Nev and Zach on board. She hadn’t admitted to anyone how much she missed her other two musketeers. “We could do breakfast for dinner and Zach could cook!”
As soon as Lizzie stepped into the dark wood-trimmed room, she saw Mr. Ray, his pleasant face calm. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Goodin-Guerrero.” Mr. Ray stood and met Lizzie halfway across the room, shaking her hand warmly.
“Lizzie, sir.” They said he’d never stopped shaking hands.
“What can I do for you, Lizzie?” He motioned her to a cushy chair and he took a seat on the couch, clasping his hands together.
“I’m hoping I can do something for you.”
“Well,” he said, “that’s certainly a switch from what I’ve been hearing.”
“I’d like to have a new job.”
“What’s your current job?”
“Parenting and child-birth classes.”
“Right.” His eyes twinkled below his bushy, gray eyebrows. “That’s a pretty important job. How is your boy? All better, I hope?”
“You remembered that? He’s fine. Just the lower-case f flu.”
“Wonderful!”
“Mr. Ray, I mostly raised my little brother when my mom was in rehab. I’ve been raising Saj since I found him. In my classes they’ve gone over everything once and are starting on the second time around. Please, save me.” Lizzie heard the whine in her own voice.
His lips twitched as he held back a smile. “So what is it you want to do, Miss Lizzie?”
“Your population list is incomplete and disorganized. I’d like to do a census. Find out who’s missing. Take their pictures; interview them. Help connect people who might not know they have family and friends that survived.” The face in the snow flashed in her mind again. “It’s probably not as important as birthing a baby, but I’m confident I can do both.”
Mr. Ray chuckled. “I have no doubt about that. You’re Mannie Guerrero’s daughter?”
“Yeah. I’d like to make sure that no one else misses the chance that we got.”
“I’ll let Ms. LaFevbre know that you’ve got a new job. You’ll be reporting to Jonah Myles in personnel.”
“Thank you” Lizzie stood, awkwardly. “Mr. Ray, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“They say you never stopped shaking hands, even when the pandemic was at its worst.”
His eyes caught Lizzie’s, there was an intensity she hadn’t seen. “It’s part of who I am. When my god is ready to take me, he will. Until then, fellowship with my fellow beings is my job here on earth.”
Lizzie held out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Ray.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Goodin-Guerrero.” He shook her hand firmly. “Thanks for your help.”
Lizzie hurried out before he had a chance to think she’d might be open to hearing more about his religion. His faith was amazing, but she wasn’t ready for that.
With the door closed behind her, she felt like cheering. Instead she took a deep breath and strode down the corridor and down the stairs to her father’s office. She opened the door gently and stuck her face in.
“Dad?”
Lizzie’s father looked up from the papers he was scribbling on. “You got a long lunch?”
“No. I’m done.”
“What do you mean? For today?”
“No, I’m released. No classes.”
“Why not?” A worried look crossed his face.
“Don’t worry, the baby is fine,” she said putting a hand on her belly.
“So, what’s going on?”
“I got the census job!” She collapsed on his couch. “I’m going to try and find out who that guy was. She gave him a wink. “And maybe do a little spying on our Mr. DiSilvio and friends.”
“Spying isn’t part of a census, Elizabeth. I want you to be careful, we’re in a precarious situation here.”
“Still trying to keep me safe now, too? I’m a grown up. I will decide what is dangerous, and what is worth the risk.” He was right. But she wasn’t in the mood to take anymore safety talk.
“I’m your father, I can’t help it.”
Lizzie bit back the comments about how long he had been her father.
“You want to go get a Coke? Or a shake?” Lizzie asked. “There’s a cool burger place called Zeke’s. Have you been there yet? The burgers are sooo good. Jess and I went there a few days ago.”
A shadow crossed his face. “I really need to get back to work. I had lunch.”
He was distant all of a sudden—was this thing with Jess that bad? She’d only just mentioned h
er name and he shut down.
“Why don’t you talk to Nev? She can give you the population data we already have.”
Now it was Lizzie’s turn to be spooked. The last call with Nev had been tentative and awkward. “Not sure that’s a really good idea.” She’d wait until the Breakfast Club get together.
“Come on, Lizzie. You and Nev—”
“Have been friends forever. Yeah. But we used to gang up on Zach. Now…”
“Look, I know it’s weird, but I think both of you want what’s best for each other, right?”
“So what?” Lizzie responded a little more forcefully than she’d intended. “Sorry.”
Her father shrugged and pulled her into a hug. “Just tell your old dad to butt out if I’m wrong.”
“It’s not that you’re wrong. Just—” Lizzie took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m not sure what to do next.”
“Maybe just give in and tell her you love her. Start on the next part of your relationship.”
“What?”
“You do love her, right?”
“She’s like my sister.” A strange thought shot into her brain. “Dad?”
“What is it?”
“Do you… did you have a sister?” She bit the inside of her cheek, as tears threatened to well up at the thought of Jayce. “Brothers?”
His eyes seemed to look right through her.
“Sorry. You don’t have to answer. You probably need to get back to work.”
He shook loose from whatever thoughts had taken him back. “No. It’s okay. One sister. Two brothers. I’ll tell you about them someday.”
“We’re doing a get together. All the old gang and the new,” Lizzie said. “Can you come? I could really use you being there for support.”
“Will Jess be there?”
“Yeah.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s a safe place. Start on the next part of your relationship.”
Mannie grimaced. “Use my own words against me, huh? Fine. I’ll come. Probably cut out early thought. Not really a kid anymore.”
Chapter Nineteen
Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness Page 16
