Seasons: A Year in the Apocalypse

by E A Lake

  They had, drastically. But none of what he was suggesting would make sense in my racing mind.

  “Well, the long and short of it is this: Walker’s deal should have been amended to a one-year contract once your husband and daughter left.” His eyes inched up and met mine. I was sure he could tell by the shock on my face I was having trouble believing that this was anything but a dream.

  “In the end, Mrs. Turner,” Mrs. Hulton interrupted, drawing my attention to her. “We’ve kept Walker for four months too long. It would seem that now, the debt is no longer yours—it’s ours, to you.”

  It had to be a trick. There had to have been something I was missing. Something that would come back to haunt me for years to come.

  Sunshine began to cry. “Oh my God, oh my God. Walker’s really coming home.”

  Mrs. Hulton turned and hugged my friend, rocking her back and forth like a mother with her child. “Yes he is, Miss Jones. And that’s not all.”

  When my vision settled on Rickard Hulton, I noticed his raised eyebrows. Perhaps this wasn’t so much his reconsideration as his wife’s.

  “There’s more?” I asked, my tone probably more skeptical than the kind people before me deserved. But it was a strange moment.

  “Yes, there’s more, Mrs. Turner,” Mr. Hulton replied, crossing his legs while he sat back in his chair. “There’s much more.”

  Chapter 79

  I sat silently and listened as Mr. Hulton outlined his repayment. Most of what he said I couldn’t believe. It simply wasn’t possible.

  When he finished, I felt Mrs. Hulton squeeze my hands.

  “Well, Mrs. Turner, what do you think?” Her tone was far more upbeat than her husband’s, but that was to be expected. He was more used to taking than giving.

  “The wagon loads of wood I saw earlier…” I began. “Those are headed to my place?” From the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Hulton nod. In front of me, her husband did the same.

  “Your woodshed should be nearly full,” he answered.

  “And if I understood you correctly,” I continued, “there will be four wagon loads of food and supplies to follow?” That was the part I found hardest to believe. I’m sure it was hard for him to believe as well.

  “One now and one each month until you’ve received all four, Mrs. Turner,” he admitted, rubbing his goatee. “We kept Walker four extra months; that means we owe you at least what we’re sending.”

  “And I can’t thank you enough,” I thrust out.

  “But don’t forget the interest payment, my dear,” Mrs. Hulton added happily. “That’s for when the snows melt and you can get to the store again.”

  “A full year of extra credits,” I mumbled, still not believing any of what I had been told.

  “Two thousand was a fair price in my mind… our mind,” Mr. Hulton added. “You’ve lost out on the use of your son during probably the four most important months of the year. You wouldn’t be in your current predicament if he had been there. Those are my feelings on the subject.”

  My head continued to spin as it had most of the time since we had arrived. Some of it was my weakened state. Half of the time while one or the other of the Hultons spoke, I had been pinching myself to make sure this wasn’t all just a cruel dream. But it was real—all real.

  “Are you understanding all of this, Mrs. Turner?” my hostess asked. Absentmindedly, I nodded.

  “But why?” I asked as if lost in a dream. “Why are you doing all of this? I would have never known. Sunshine and I would have been dead within a week if Mr. Lasky hadn’t come for us… if you hadn’t had such an unbelievable change of heart.”

  Mr. Hulton tipped his head toward his wife. “Rena can explain that.”

  I hoped she could; I was desperately confused as to their true motive.

  Mrs. Hulton played with the seam of her dress as if it were anything but immaculate. As far as I was concerned, she and everything about her were perfect.

  “One day, not so long ago,” she began, “I was brushing Nina’s hair.” She peeked at me, almost embarrassed. “That’s what we call her—Nina. We still don’t know what her actual name was; she’s never mentioned it, and I didn’t think it was right to push.

  “Anyway, I considered how lucky I was to finally have a child—a daughter, no less. She’s the true joy of my life. And while we’re not all that old, I did believe we would never be blessed with a child.”

  Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. Speaking of her daughter had made her tear up.

  “That’s when it struck me. You, Mrs. Turner, appeared in my mind.” Mrs. Hulton smiled graciously and spoke to me as if we were alone.

  “My children,” I whispered, pulling gently on my lower lip.

  “You had two,” Mrs. Hulton continued, “and then you had none. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. And that’s when it struck me: Rickard had made a deal to take care of four people in the contract, not two. When I brought it to his attention, he waved me off at first. But I kept on him. Within a day, maybe two, he agreed with me. So we set about figuring out how we were going to rectify this injustice.”

  Mr. Hulton cleared his throat. “Injustice is a somewhat histrionic word, Rena,” he countered. “It was more of an oversight. It was nothing intentional on my part.”

  “Nonetheless,” she continued, “we had your son; your husband stole your daughter. We needed to return your son.”

  “Because I’d lost everything?” I asked. That only made me seem even more desperate, more pathetic.

  “Because it was right,” she insisted. “Having Nina made me realize how much you were suffering. She’s brought me a whole new outlook on life. I’m not sure what I’d ever do if she went missing. But to have two children missing? Well, it broke my heart. And then when I realized our deal with you hadn’t been fair, I was mortified. It had to be corrected immediately.”

  “I think that’s a thorough enough explanation, Rena,” Mr. Hulton stated. “The point is that Walker will be coming home after the noon meal on the next day of rest. It will give him a chance to say his goodbyes and get some training from Lask on providing for his family. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

  I nodded because I couldn’t speak. Emotion filled my throat, suppressing any words that might have tried to escape.

  “Thank you,” I finally managed to squeak out. “Thank you so much.”

  “If there is anything you ever need in the future, Mrs. Turner,” Mrs. Hulton continued. “Please come and ask. We’re neighbors, after all.” She leaned and kissed my cheek. “And I’d so like it if we could be friends.”

  My eyes went shut as tears released in waves. “Walker’s coming home,” I cried. “He’s really coming home.”

  “Yes, he is,” Mrs. Hulton said softly into my ear. “And everything is going to be all right from here on out. Everything.”

  Chapter 80

  After I managed to compose myself, Mr. Hulton began to summarize our discussion. I didn’t need him to; I couldn’t possibly forget any of the good news.

  “Walker will bring a rifle and plenty of ammunition when he comes home in three days,” he stated. “Lask has a gun that used to be his father’s. The boy is special to Lask, as he is to all of us here.”

  “He’ll be able to hunt and provide for the rest of the winter and into spring,” Mrs. Hulton added enthusiastically. “Though with the extra food you’ll have, you may not need anything else until summer or next fall.”

  I had one more question, one I had saved for last. Perhaps it was unappreciative to ask, but I had to. If for no one else, I needed to ask for myself.

  “Is there any chance we could work something out and you could send someone to look for my daughter?” His face went dark the moment my question ended.

  “Last fall, just before the snows came, I sent some people down past Trident to try and pick up the trail of your husband and this Andersen woman.” He paused for a moment and drew a deep breath. “I told them to search high
and low and to not come back until they had some news.”

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, I held my breath. Had they found them? Were they safe? Were they coming back? Or were they—

  “They picked up their trail south of Trident and followed it into Iowa,” he added, “but I’m afraid they disappeared after that. We thought there was word of them heading towards what used to be Cedar Rapids. But no matter how much they searched, they couldn’t pick up the trail. I’m sorry.”

  His sad eyes told me he really was.

  “I appreciate what you did, Mr. Hulton,” I said, realizing one of my worst fears. Sasha was gone, gone for good.

  “But you’ll have Walker,” Mrs. Hulton said hugging me tightly.

  Yes, I would. If I couldn’t have both of my children, having one was better than the alternative.

  “And now,” Mr. Hulton said, pushing out of his chair. “Rena and I would like to have you and Miss Jones join us for the midday meal. I would think we’re all quite hungry by now.”

  “I sure as hell am,” Sunshine said. The Hultons shared a chuckle at her enthusiasm.

  “But go easy,” Mrs. Hulton warned. “Your stomachs probably won’t like too much in them at once for a while. I’ve had our chef make some foods that should go easy on your digestive tracts.”

  I turned and faced the wonderful woman. “You’re far too kind, Mrs. Hulton. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve this kindness. I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay it.”

  She hugged me again, rubbing her hand in circles on my back.

  “We’re mothers, Mrs. Turner,” she whispered. “That practically makes us sisters. And this is what family does for one another.”

  We walked hand in hand toward the dining room. I felt close to this woman, like the sister I’d never had. She understood me perhaps even more than Sunshine.

  “Will your daughter be joining us for the meal?” I asked. “I’d love to meet her.”

  I saw her lips tighten. “Nina isn’t feeling well today. Perhaps some other time, Mrs. Turner.”

  That was fine; with fresh supplies and Walker coming home, I had a new life and nothing but time. Finally.

  Epilogue

  Hulton’s brown steed came to a slow trot as the late spring wind pushed his hair back. Turning in his saddle, he waited for his riding companion to catch up. On her smaller white horse, she came to a stop beside him.

  The pair dismounted and ambled to the east. Overlooking a small brushy draw, Hulton turned to the girl.

  “Just down there is where I saw the doe with her two fawns last week, sweetie,” he whispered, pointing toward the thicker brush. “If we stand here quietly, they might come out again.”

  The pair watched for a while, but nothing appeared. It wasn’t that unusual to see deer in the midday. But not today, Hulton supposed.

  He glanced at his daughter, her brown hair reaching to her mid-back. Admiring her new tan cowboy hat he had recently purchased, he noticed that her mother had pulled the girl’s hair into a ponytail for today’s ride. Rena didn’t like the tangled mess he brought back to her at times.

  Her face screwed up as she stepped forward.

  “Something wrong, sweetheart?” he asked.

  She looked back at him. “Nothing, really. I was just wondering about something.”

  He smiled gently. “And that is?”

  She turned and smiled back at him. “Mother says it’s my birthday next week. I’ll either be twelve or thirteen. She insists on twelve. I think I’d like to be thirteen.”

  Hulton placed his arm over his daughter’s shoulder. She’d grown since she’d come to them—grown in many ways, as he saw it.

  Her head almost reached his collarbone. Her features were that of a young woman, no longer a little girl. And her maturity had tripled since she’d arrived.

  “Let’s see,” he began. “You came to us seven years ago. You were either five or six at the time. You wouldn’t speak for the first six months. So your mother decided you were five.”

  “Did I have a different name before?” she asked innocently.

  He nodded. “We’ve talked about this, sweetheart.” Her eyes begged him to repeat the story. “I’m sure you did. You never said it, though. Thus, we decided on Nina. Both your mother and I loved that name.”

  Her face darkened along with her mood.

  “Do you remember the past, Nina?” he asked. “Do you remember your mother or your father?”

  Her nose scrunched into a tiny ball as she shook her head. “I think I remember my father and his second wife. But I don’t recall either of their names. As for my real mother, I can’t remember anything. I do know that she had died. At least that’s what I think my father told me once. Or someone else told me that he had said that.”

  Hulton nodded again. “That’s what we heard when we came for you. Do you remember your father leaving?”

  She sighed and shrugged, almost looking bored with the conversation. “I remember being alone. I remember a nice older woman named Mrs. Parry taking me into her house. I always called her Grandma Parry. Then I remember you and Mother coming and bringing me here… home.”

  Hulton moved closer to the girl and took her hand. “Are you happy to be here? With your mother and me?” He asked the question often. And the response was always the same.

  Her face brightened as if dark clouds had parted. “Oh yes, Father. I love you and Mother so much. I’m the luckiest girl alive.”

  She hugged him tightly, squeezing with all of her youthful might.

  “Who’s Sasha?” she asked, almost as a second thought.

  Hulton stiffened. The question came only once in a while, but it was still far too often for his liking. Each time the girl mentioned the name, Rena died a little inside, he knew.

  “That was the name of the little girl that went missing from the place to the south,” he answered. “The poor woman went insane, losing her child like that. You heard it sometimes when she screamed it out loud on still summer nights.”

  “I feel bad for her,” the child replied, still hugging her father. “I’d never want to get lost from you and Mother.”

  “You never will,” he murmured. “Never.”

  She broke the hug and wandered toward the fence. Pointing south and a little east, she looked back at him.

  “Jeremy took me on a ride down that road a few weeks ago,” she sang. “Down past the place that’s all burnt out. He said you did it. Is that where the poor woman who lost her daughter lived?”

  Hulton joined her at the fence. “Yes, she did. Her and her son and his wife and several grandbabies. But the place wasn’t safe anymore. The roof was rotted and caving in, most of the windows were shot, even the back door wouldn’t close any longer.”

  Her eyes shot open. “That sounds awful,” she exclaimed.

  “It was. Awful plus some. The house wasn’t safe to live in anymore. They needed to be relocated.”

  Nina grinned and peeked down at her shoes. “Jeremy says you built them a new home. And you sent a team of people to help them move. All because you’re the richest man in the world.”

  Hulton felt his face blush. “I fixed up a place about five miles north of here, darling. All it needed was the roof repaired, a few windows panes replaced and a new cookstove. Then it was good as new.”

  He lifted his daughter’s chin gently. “And I’m not the richest man in the world. I’m just trying to be the decent neighbor your mother always wanted me to be. Nothing more.”

  “So why’d you burn down all the buildings? Why not just the house?” she asked with childlike innocence.

  “We couldn’t take a chance of anyone moving in there. None of it was safe, Nina. It all needed to go.”

  She turned and played with some of the fencing. “Jeremy asked me what I thought of the place when we rode by,” she said. “I told him it was dreadful. All the blackened sooty wood, piles and piles of burnt-out rubbish. Just dreadful, Father.”

  He inched
closer, wondering if now was a good time for the question. He’d waited long enough; he had to know.

  “Does any of this land around here look familiar to you, Nina? Did it bring back any memories? It looks a lot like many of the farms in southern Minnesota. Perhaps a little like where you lived at first.”

  She turned and faced him with a serious expression. His heart skipped a beat as he searched her eyes for the answer both he and Rena worried about.

  Finally, she shrugged. “Doesn’t look like anywhere I’ve ever seen before. I only remember here, nowhere else really. And it’s the first time I’ve ever been down the south road. Given the bleakness of that place, I can’t say I ever want to go past it again. Ever.”

  Hulton smiled at his daughter.

  “But you admit you did move those people, Father, don’t you?” she questioned. “And you did it at your own expense. No one else helped you, not even the Amish, did they?”

  “Lask and his team did all of the work, Nina. I simply—”

  She rushed him and hugged him tighter than before. “You are the most wonderful man, Father,” she whispered into his chest. “Absolutely the most wonderful person in the whole wide world.”

  His right hand stroked her back softly as his left rubbed the back of her head.

  “I’m not so sure about that, Nina Abigail Hulton,” he replied quietly, fighting back his shame. “I’m just not sure.”

  ##########

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