Still, it was wonderful. His water source was always at arm’s reach and deep enough he had no need to purify for fear of human contamination. Anyone looking at his tiny shelter wouldn’t think he had anything worth taking, unaware that a gold mine lay underneath. Lynn’s large house, outbuildings, and obvious pond made her a constant target.
There was a thump as the trapdoor opened and Lucy’s head emerged. Her face was filthy, her hair covered in cobwebs. “That’s the coolest place ever.”
“That place is a supersecret special place, do you understand?” Lynn said. Lucy nodded solemnly. “If the bad people knew that Stebbs had that place under his house, they would come and take it from him.”
“They’re mean,” Lucy said, making a face.
“Very mean,” Stebbs agreed. “It’s important that you not talk about it, okay? Especially the part about how I can find water.”
“You mean that you’re a witch?”
“Yes, that is a very, very big secret,” Stebbs said, and Lucy looked from him to Lynn, frightened.
“He’s not a witch the way you’re thinking of it, Lucy,” Lynn explained. “He can find water under the ground. It’s called ‘water witching.’”
“There’s water under the ground?”
“Yeah, c’mere.” Stebbs motioned to Lucy and she approached his bed. He held out his chapped hand. Dark blue veins rose prominently over his knucklebones. “See that?” he asked, pointing to them. “There’s veins down under the ground like these that are in our bodies, ’cept they’re full of water, not blood. The ground is like the skin here on our bones, keeps the water down inside. I can find that water without seeing it, and then I dig where it’s at to make a well.”
“How do you do it?”
“Lynn, go outside to that witch hazel and cut me a forked switch.”
“You’re not serious,” she said. “You’re giving a demonstration?”
“The least I can do is provide some entertainment for my rescue party.”
Lynn bit down on her retort and went out in the waning light to cut the switch with her pocketknife. When she came back in, Lucy had three piles of blankets on the floor beside the bed and Stebbs was sitting up. She handed him the forked switch.
“All right now, close your eyes,” Lucy said. “No cheating.”
Stebbs obeyed and Lucy slid the cup of water under the middle blanket. “Ready,” she said, and scurried over beside Lynn to watch.
Stebbs pulled himself to the edge of the bed, held the forked ends of the switch loosely in his hands with his palms up, and swept the other end over the blankets slowly, starting on the right. He’d barely passed over the middle blanket when the stick turned in his hands, jabbing downward at the cup of water hidden underneath.
“Am I right?” Stebbs asked Lucy, even though Lynn could tell from his eyes that he knew he was.
Lucy bolted up from the ground. “That is sooo cool,” she shouted, then pulled the cup of water out from under the blanket to look at it suspiciously. “Can I still drink it?”
“Sure,” Stebbs laughed.
“How do you do that, really? Is it magic?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said. “It’s just something I’m able to do. Sometimes it’s genetic—my grandfather could do it. Some people can just feel water.”
“Lucy, pick up this mess,” Lynn said, pointing to the blankets. She took the switch from Stebbs, forced him to lie back down on the bed and re-propped his foot. “That was stupid,” she said to him. “She was excited enough already, now she’s going to chatter about it forever.”
“Who’s she going to talk to? You? Eli? Her mother? Them knowing doesn’t bother me.”
“But the others? What if they’re watching? What if they overhear her saying something to one of us? What if she slips in front of a stranger one day?”
“I just wanted to make her happy. The kid’s got little enough to smile about.”
“It’s not worth it,” Lynn shot back. “You know what would happen to you if the wrong people found out you can douse? You’d—”
“Hey, guys, look!” Lucy’s cry of joy reverberated inside the small shelter. They turned to see her holding the dousing stick expertly in her upturned palms, the long end pointing emphatically at a bundle of blankets.
Lynn jumped to her feet and yanked the covering away. The little cup of water that had been underneath spilled across the floor. Her gaze met Stebbs’.
“Shit,” he said.
“So I’m a water witch too?” Lucy asked as they crossed the field by the light of the newly risen moon.
“Shut up about that!” Lynn turned in her tracks and thrust a finger in Lucy’s face. “Remember that man on the road, and those men that took his shoes?”
Lucy’s lip quivered as she looked into Lynn’s angry face. “The bad men?”
“Yeah, the bad men. What he had that was worth anything to them, they took. His wood, his food, his gun—right down to his socks—they took everything that meant anything. What you’ve got isn’t something they can just pull out of your hands, and it’s worth more than shoes. You can find water, Lucy. If anyone knew, they’d take—”
“They’d take me,” the little girl said. “Because it’s like I got the water inside me, and they can’t just take it out.”
“Yeah,” Lynn said softly, shoving down the hard spike of fear that had risen in her chest. “They’d take you. Or Stebbs. Either one of you would be worth more than gold, but I don’t think the life you’d be living would be worth shit.” Lynn glanced around the field and readjusted the rifle on her back. “C’mon,” she said tersely, jerking the little girl by the arm. “We’ve been gone too long already. And stop talking.”
Lucy was silent the rest of the way home, and Lynn regretted speaking so harshly to her. Fear had fueled her tone, but there was no way to explain to Lucy the wave of panic that swept over her even in daylight when seconds passed between Lynn calling out and Lucy answering. In the dark field, it felt to Lynn like predators would see Lucy not only as the easiest target but also as Lynn’s weakness as well. She hoped Lucy could feel the affection coursing through her fingers, even though the grip on her tiny wrist was iron.
Lucy gathered courage to speak again once they were both tucked into the warm safety of their own cots. “How bad’s his ankle?”
“What’s that?”
“Stebbs’ foot? He going to be okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Lynn answered. “It was just a bad sprain. He couldn’t stand to pull himself up out of the bunker because his other foot is lame.”
“He’ll be okay though? Like to come over and see us again sometime?”
Lynn found herself smiling in the dark; she wasn’t the only one who found Stebbs’ company comforting. “I doubt we can keep him away.”
Lucy was quiet for a moment, but it was a heavy silence. “I bet my grandma coulda fixed his foot up nice.”
Lynn turned in her cot. She could barely make out the pale moon of the little girl’s face on the other side of the basement. “Your grandma?”
“She’s a doctor back in the city. Said she’d come and find us, when she could get away. I thought maybe she could fix Stebbs’ foot, make my mommy better too.”
“Your grandma is a doctor?”
“Yeah, she’s important in the city. Has a big office in the hospital and all that. I got to visit her there once, and I wanted to see the babies but they don’t even let her into that part of the hospital.”
“So she’s not a baby doctor?”
“No, just a sick people doctor.”
“Be nice to have one of those around here.”
“She said she’s coming,” Lucy said quickly as if her saying so would make it true. “Soon as she could get away, she said she’d follow us. She said Neva’s her little girl and she won’t be away from her, no matter what.”
“Follow you how, Lucy? It didn’t seem like you guys even knew where you were going.”
A long
silence followed, and when she spoke Lucy’s voice shook. “My dad saw you on the water map.”
“What?” Lynn sat up in her cot, alarm spreading through her body. “What do you mean, a water map? He saw me?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Lucy folded up into the fetal position on her cot. “It’s a bigger secret even than Stebbs and me being witches.”
“No, Lucy,” Lynn said as calmly as possible. “I think you should tell me. I need to know what you’re saying about a water map. This is important.”
“I know it’s important. All the secrets are.”
“Jeez, little girl, how many do you have?”
“A lot!” Lucy’s voice cracked, and she started to cry. “I’ve got a lot of secrets.”
Lynn got out of her cot and headed over to Lucy’s to cradle the little head in her lap, a feral wave of protective instinct overwhelming her at the touch of the tiny skull. “It’s okay, kiddo,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me all of them. But I want to know about this water map.”
“It’s . . .” Lucy wiped the tears from her face while she looked for a way to explain. “Do you know what a computer is?”
“I’ve seen dead ones in some of the houses I’ve been in, never been around one that worked though.”
“Well, all the ones in the city work, and there’s these things up in the sky called stalactites. They take pictures and give them to the computers, so people can see all the land all around. People use the pictures to find water.”
“Like my pond,” Lynn said, a cold finger of fear running down her spine.
“Yeah,” Lucy said, her voice still thick with tears. “They don’t let everybody see those maps though, even in the city. Only soldiers get to look, and even then only the superspecial ones. ’Cause the people who run the city, they don’t want everybody who lives there coming out here to get water for themselves.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause then they won’t pay for it,” Lucy said simply. “But my dad, he said even if they did let all the people know where the water was, nobody would be able to get to it out here because of the crazy hillbillies. He said people were better off paying for it than being shot.”
Lynn ignored the rush of anger. “So how did your dad know about these maps? Was he one of the soldiers allowed to see them?”
“Yeah. Mommy and Daddy got real nervous a while back, right before her belly got big. They started talking a lot after I was supposed to go to sleep. I could hear them through their door. Daddy started sneaking looks at the water maps, to find somewhere for us to go. Then he’d come home and draw it out as best he could, and Uncle Eli would watch. They memorized them, then burned them up.”
“You said your dad saw me?”
There was another reluctant silence. Lynn got up and opened the door to the stove and threw some wood on the glowing coals. Lucy’s wet face gleamed in the firelight.
“We were supposed to take your house.”
“Excuse me?”
“Daddy said it was a good place.”
“It is a good place,” Lynn said stiffly. “It’s also mine.”
“He didn’t know you were here,” Lucy said, her face scrunching up to cry again. “Daddy didn’t know there were people here.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Lynn crawled back onto the cot with Lucy, and cradled her head once more. “So why didn’t you?”
“We got caught. Daddy got killed, then me and Mommy and Eli got kicked out. Uncle Eli followed the map in his head but when he saw there was someone living at your house, he said he was too weak to take it by farce—”
“Force.”
“Yeah, force. And Mommy just sat down and wouldn’t go anymore.”
Lynn stroked Lucy’s hair and thought for a moment. “Did your grandma see these maps that your dad and Eli memorized?”
“Yeah, she learned them too.”
“It’s possible then, she could find us.”
“You think so?”
“Don’t get your hopes up too far, kid, but maybe.”
Lucy’s eyes were fluttering down toward sleep when Lynn asked her last question. “You said your grandma could fix Stebbs’ foot, and maybe your mother too. What did you mean? What’s wrong with Neva?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy answered slowly. “But when we got arrested, me and Mommy and Daddy, we were sitting in jail and some of the soldiers came and took her away. When they brought her back she looked okay but she was walking funny, like they hurt her somehow. Then she just curled up like I am now and wouldn’t talk to me or Daddy.”
Lucy looked at the fire while she talked, and the flames illuminated her fresh tears. “Mommy would have days like that, before the jail, even. Sometimes she would just say it was a ‘bad day’ and she would have to lie down or not get out of bed at all. Daddy tried to make it a ‘good day,’ but usually Grandma was the only one that could help. It was worse after the soldiers came to the jail. I think maybe whatever those men did to her it’s still hurting. Maybe Grandma can make it better?”
Lynn tightened her grip on the frail little body. “I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”
Thirteen
A week later, snow fell. And continued to fall. Lynn sent Lucy indoors once visibility had reached zero. The girl could easily become disoriented in the blinding white snowfall and wander to a lonely death in the snow. Lynn climbed down from the roof moments after sending her inside. She could see nothing. If anyone were stupid enough to wander out in a snowstorm to attack her, she could shoot them just as easily coming down the basement stairs. Easier, even.
They spent two days indoors, with Lucy mocking the reading selection, and Lynn pumping her for more information about Entargo. Once the conversation steered in the direction of Neva’s mom though, Lynn became less enthusiastic. A lone woman wandering in the blizzard wouldn’t make it far, especially a city dweller. She kept the harsh thoughts to herself and tried to distract Lucy by pulling out a tin of cocoa, something that had been reserved for Christmas when Mother was alive.
On the third day, Lynn ventured back onto the roof and spied the meandering black snake of a trail that Stebbs was making as he lurched toward the house. She hailed him, and Lucy ran out to meet him, her own progress hampered by the snow that nearly reached her thighs. She fell flat on her face twice before she reached Stebbs, but resolutely got up and pounded her way through the drifts. Even though Lynn knew it cost him, he swung Lucy up and onto his shoulders.
He warmed himself by the fire and gave Lucy a present he’d made during his own time indoors; a wooden flute that he’d whittled. She began tooting it immediately and stomping around the basement in a chaotic parody of a parade.
“Thanks for that,” Lynn said drily.
“At least now we don’t have to walk outside to have a conversation,” he said over the din.
Lynn’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up?”
“I want you to go over to check on Eli and Neva. My foot won’t hold up to the trip, so I thought I’d stay here and watch over things for you.”
Lynn tried to ignore the little skip in her heartbeat. “Something wrong?”
“I don’t think so, no. But it’s their first real blizzard so it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
Bleak winters could drive even the most seasoned country dwellers to the brink. Mother had told her of a married couple who’d survived the violence immediately following the Shortage, only to have the wife go after her husband with a hatchet during the winter that followed. Being shut indoors could do funny things to people, Mother had said.
“I can do that,” Lynn said carefully, certain there was more.
Stebbs unshouldered his backpack. “Take ’em this. It’s got vegetables enough to get them through for a little while. Bring the pack back, and we’ll stock ’em up again in a bit.”
“And what are they giving you in return?”
“They’ve got nothing to give.”
Lynn took the pack reluctantly. �
��I don’t like you just giving them things. When does it stop?”
“When they’re able to look after themselves.”
“And when will that be, with you always treating them like they’re babies fresh out of their mothers?”
Stebbs gave Lynn a hard look. “I know you’re just saying what you think your mother would’ve wanted. Seems to me you’re starting to grow a heart on your own, but every now and then you think of her and it kills it dead like the frost to a seedling. You weren’t taught any different, but it used to be that people helped each other.”
“Used to be a lot of things different.”
“But people are still the same,” Stebbs said, an edge on his voice that usually wasn’t there. “And all everyone is trying to do is survive.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“You’re not exactly in bad shape, kiddo. Those poor bastards your mom blew away over the years? They was just trying to get a drink, to get by one more day. Shit, one time the widow of this fella came back to my place, out of her head ’cause she saw one of your mom’s bullets peel off part of her husband’s skull. Died the next day, she did, and I’m not so sure it wasn’t the shock that killed her.”
Lynn fiddled with the strap on the bag he’d handed her. “When was this?”
“Seven years or so back.”
“That wasn’t necessarily Mother that shot him. That might have been me.”
“Jesus.” Stebbs put his head in his hands and left it there. “You woulda been just a kid.”
Lynn glanced over to where Lucy was playing the flute, happily plugging different holes to change the notes. “Killing people was easier when the only face I ever saw was Mother’s. Back then, anyone else was the enemy and shooting at an outline in a scope wasn’t any different than taking down a deer, just in a different shape.”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve seen other faces,” Lynn said, thinking of the traveler on the road, who Lucy had begged her not to shoot. “And I can’t help but wonder what the people I shot looked like.”
Not a Drop to Drink Page 11
