by Maddy Barone
He nodded politely at Carla and turned his eyes back to Lisa, taking her hand like it was breakable, spun glass. “Eddie Madison. Pleased to meet you.” He seemed to have to force himself to look back at Carla. “Pleased to meet you both.”
The other woman nodded distractedly, apparently more interested in the conversation between the bearded, aging hippy and the farmers than the Greek god come to life. There was a line between her brows as she glanced from their escort to Mayor Madison. The golden god listened too, so Lisa tried to focus.
Skinny? The mayor gestured at her, saying something about her being skin and bone. And Carla? The singer was by no means obese, but she was at least twenty pounds too heavy for her height. Lisa tried to follow the conversation, but all she could grasp was the farmers were talking about them like they were used cars they were trying to sell to a skeptical buyer. And the buyer pointed out flaws, like he was trying to get the price dropped down.
“Hey!” said Carla loudly. “We need help. The plane we were in crashed. People are hurt. They need to get to a hospital.”
All the men—and some more had drifted over from the other houses and building in the area—stared. The mayor pointed triumphantly at Carla. “And they’re crazy!” he shouted at the farmers, as if that were a clinching argument.
“They’re fertile,” the farmer countered, “and young enough to have twenty years of child bearing ahead.”
Lisa blinked. The words floated over the top of her mind before sinking in. “What?” she gasped.
“The blonde is too skinny to be fertile,” the mayor argued.
The farmer responded, but she didn’t hear it because the golden god had put his hand on her arm and whispered, “I don’t mind you skinny. I’ll see you have plenty of food so you can fatten up.”
Lisa pulled her arm away, half offended, and caught up with the conversation. “Eddie,” the mayor said, “why don’t ya take them gals up to the porch where they can set in the shade? Fetch them some water too. They’re probably thirsty from the drive into town.”
“Sure, Dad,” Eddie said, reaching for Lisa’s arm again.
The farmer grabbed her before Eddie could and jerked her away so violently she stumbled on her aching feet and almost fell. “They can stay put until we finish our business.”
Eddie’s beautiful face was hard and angry. “You be careful with her. You wouldn’t want to damage the merchandise,” he added sarcastically.
Carla looked like she couldn’t believe her ears. “Didn’t you hear me?” she yelled. “I said, there’s been a plane crash and people need medical help!”
Eddie’s dad looked at her with a serious expression. “Don’t you worry, ma’am, we’ll discuss it as soon as these gentlemen and I finish our talk. I promise, we’ll figure out what’s best to do.”
The women stood together beside the wagon, listening in disbelief as the farmers sold them to Eddie’s dad. The other men who came out to see what was going on began filing back and forth, carrying bundles and boxes from one of the barns to the wagon. Her friend was stiff with anger, her arms folded over her chest, her handbag hanging from one elbow. “The going price for two fertile women?” she hissed sarcastically. “Fifty pounds of coffee, a hundred pounds of sugar, and a chunk of salt. Are you insulted? I am. I’m worth at least twice that.”
Lisa nodded numbly. She’d always thought religious people were trustworthy. But these guys were some sort of weird cult. They were lucky the cultists hadn’t done something worse than sell them to the mayor of the neighboring town. She watched the Odessa men turn the wagon and drive away from the house.
“Well, now, ladies,” Mayor Madison said. “Why don’t we go on inside, get you a drink of water, and talk about what needs to be done.”
Eddie walked beside Lisa, and she was aware of the admiring glances he gave her. She cringed when she thought of how horrid she must look with her unwashed, flat hair and dirty, torn clothes. When was the last time she left her apartment looking half this bad?
The inside of the house was quietly elegant, with gleaming hardwood floors and white painted walls. The mayor led them past the foyer and other rooms to the back of the house and into the kitchen where two women, probably a mother and daughter, stood, looking curious. Lisa noticed the lack of modern appliances with unease. Were the Madisons a part of the weird cult too? No, the women wore pants, and the older one’s hair was cut in a short, graying-blonde bob. The few women in Odessa had worn ankle-length skirts and braided hair under white caps. The mayor kissed the elder woman on the cheek.
“This is my wife, Darlene Madison, and my daughter, Brianna,” said the mayor. “You’ve met my boy, Eddie. I’m Ray Madison, mayor of Kearney. Honey, these ladies will be staying with us for a while. They’ve come from Odessa.”
Eddie couldn’t seem to resist stroking his hand along her forearm. “This is Lisa Anton, and this is Carla Zimmerman,” he said.
“Edward,” his mother said warningly, and he stepped away from Lisa with the same uncanny grace he’d moved with before. Lisa was fascinated. Maybe he was a dancer?
Mrs. Madison waved at the table. “You girls sit down. Let me get you something to eat.”
She was a tall woman, wearing a button up cotton shirt and loose denim pants, with a large bosom, broad hips, and a face as beautiful as her son’s. Obviously he took after his mother in looks, not his father. His sister was built like their mother—her blonde hair was brassier and curlier than Eddie’s, her face not quite as pretty. She joined them at the table, looking at them with wonder. Mrs. Madison served them all slices of apple pie and glasses of water.
“Now then,” the mayor said. “Tell us about this plane crash. Where is it?”
The Madison family looked startled as Carla and Lisa explained everything that happened since yesterday morning when they boarded the plane in Minneapolis. Brianna and Mrs. Madison made sounds of horror and sympathy when they described the way the plane bucked and fell, nearly completely out of the pilot’s control, to the earth. The blood and the screams of the dying… Lisa’s mind stuttered to a stop when she remembered Alexander. She struggled silently with tears when she remembered him crying so weakly in her arms until his struggling heart finally stopped beating.
Under the table, Carla patted her knee and continued the story matter-of-factly. “Some of the survivors were sent to try to find help since the plane’s radio didn’t work and neither did the cell phones. We walked yesterday until sundown without finding anyone and started again at dawn. The first people we found were at Odessa. They brought us here. We need to send an air ambulance. Some people were badly hurt but still alive when we left the plane.”
“An airplane,” said Mayor Madison, shaking his head. “You think it’s about thirty or forty miles west of here and a bit north. You can leave that to me. I’ll round up some men, and we’ll get things taken care of. Meanwhile, you gals should go on upstairs and get a good rest.”
A weight fell off Lisa’s shoulders. She had been worried they wouldn’t be able to get help for the survivors they left behind. She paid attention to the pie on her plate. Lisa normally didn’t eat pie—it wasn’t in her diet plan. But this was really good. And even though a half hour ago she had felt nauseous in the wagon, she found now she was really hungry. When she got back to L.A., she’d skimp a little bit to make up for it, but right now she scooped up the last bite of pie with pleasure.
Mrs. Madison noticed. “You look like pie isn’t on the menu for you too often.”
“Not too often,” she agreed with a smile. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”
“Now, there,” said the mayor heartily. “You’re a bit on the scrawny side, but you have nice manners. A man should consider more than looks when he’s shopping for a wife.”
“Uh,” said Lisa blankly.
“Now, Ray,” said his wife in a commanding voice. “You get going. There’s plenty to get done, and there’s no time to waste.”
“That’s a fact.” Ray no
dded and got up. “Eddie, you’re with me. Honey, we’ll likely miss supper. Don’t keep anything for us—we’ll grab a bite when we get back.”
While Mrs. Madison set a big kettle on the weird-looking stove, Bree went around the kitchen and pulled the blinds at the kitchen windows down. “You girls will want a little wash-up before you take your nap,” Mrs. Madison said briskly. “And let’s get your clothes washed right away. Take off your boots while the water is heating. Bree, bring some nightgowns and towels.”
Lisa looked around the kitchen. No refrigerator, no microwave, no dishwasher. It looked a lot like a kitchen in a pioneer museum. “Um…” Lisa didn’t want to be rude. “It’s so nice of you to take us in like this, but we don’t want to impose. If someone could take us to a hotel, we’ll be fine.”
Mrs. Madison shook her head. “That wouldn’t be safe for you at all. We’re perfectly happy to have you here.”
Carla was more direct. “I need to call my parents. They will be worried about me.”
The older woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. We have no phones.”
Carla’s large hazel eyes narrowed. “No phones? You’re not part of the cult from Odessa. Are you?”
Bree’s eyes peeped over the stack of towels she carried into the kitchen. She glanced at her mother as she set the pile down on the table. Mrs. Madison laughed gently. “No. They don’t quite approve of us down in Odessa, I’m afraid. No one has electric appliances or phones anymore, dear. Bree, get the basins. I think the ladies would like to soak their feet. I saw the way you were limping, both of you.”
“What?” demanded Carla. “No phones? Why not?”
Mrs. Madison scooped some water out of the kettle heating on the old-fashioned stove and came to the table. She set a basin down on the floor in front of each of them. Lisa put her bare, blistered feet in the lukewarm water and closed her eyes in bliss.
Mrs. Madison smiled at Carla as she took a seat at the table. Her eyes were serious and sympathetic. “What year is this?”
Carla stared for a minute. “2014, of course.”
Bree gasped. “No, it isn’t!” she protested. “That’s the year the Terrible Times started.”
Mrs. Madison nodded. “It is 2064. I don’t know what happened in 2014, but I was taught evil men and women made things explode in the cities around the world. A lot of people died. Those who lived ran away from the cities. And people starting getting sick.”
Lisa wanted to laugh, but Mrs. Madison looked so serious she forced it back. Carla, on the other hand, didn’t look like she thought it was funny, and she might forget Mrs. Madison was their hostess. She hurried to say, “Who would do such a terrible thing?”
“Terrorists,” Bree answered promptly. “Mr. Gray told us all about it in school. He was alive then. He called them terrorists. The terrorists used new-clee-air devices to kill millions of people. Their great plan must have killed them too, but not until after they made everyone sick. The Woman Killer Plague is why there aren’t too many women now.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Carla snapped.
“It’s true,” Mrs. Madison insisted quietly. “You told my husband you walked for over a day. How many people did you find during that day? How many empty homes did you find?”
A wave of cold raised goose bumps on Lisa’s arms. “But that’s impossible,” she argued weakly.
Carla’s arguments were louder and stronger. “You’re taking this pretty calmly. If it were true, it would be pretty amazing to me to have two women show up out of nowhere and claim to be from the past.”
“You’re not the first people from the Times Before to come to this area,” was Mrs. Madison’s unruffled reply. “There were some women who came to Colorado about ten years ago. My friend saw them and told me about it.”
Carla continued to argue, but she kept her feet in the soothing water. She went on for quite a while, until Mrs. Madison left the table to go to the steaming kettle on the stove.
Bree said sympathetically, “You can go to the library and look up everything. Mr. Gray has newspapers from the Times Before and the Terrible Times. I’m sure he’d let you look at them. And you should talk to my brother. He’s studied all about it.”
“Come wash up, girls,” the mayor’s wife said. “You can have nice hot baths and wash your hair tonight after supper in a real bathtub, but for now you can wash up here. Leave your clothes behind, and Bree will get them washed for you while you’re napping.”
“But what about the people at the plane crash?” Carla said angrily.
“My husband will know what is best to do for them,” was Mrs. Madison’s tranquil answer.
“It’s nice of you to offer to put us up,” Lisa said with desperate courtesy. “But we’d like to go to the hotel.”
The older woman looked at her with cool eyes a little bluer than Eddie’s. “If you went to the hotel, you’d be raped and married by morning. Women are scarce here because of the plagues, and some men are unscrupulous in their methods of finding a wife. You’re far safer here. Hurry now and get washed up.”
Bathing in public was embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the compassionate remarks Mrs. Madison and her daughter made about Lisa’s slenderness.
“Have you had bad harvests?” the teenager asked sympathetically. “We have plenty, so be sure to eat your fill.”
It made Lisa glad to pull the much-too-big flannel granny nightgown over her head to hide a body once celebrated in the swimsuit editions of sports magazines.
“Now you go on upstairs and take a nap until supper,” the mayor’s wife ordered. “Bree, do you have their clothes in the washtub?”
“Sure do, Mom,” Bree said brightly. “I’ll let them soak a while before I scrub them.”
Lisa cringed at the thought of her cashmere sweater being scrubbed until she remembered the bloodstains. It was already ruined. Scrubbing couldn’t make it any worse.
Mrs. Madison waved them out of the kitchen. “Then show the girls to the guestroom on the north side.”
Lisa followed Bree up the beautifully carved staircase in a numb daze. But she could see that Carla was stiff with anger. As soon as Bree opened the door of a room and ushered them in, the singer let the anger loose in furious words.
“How stupid do you think we are?” she demanded. “2064? Seriously?”
Bree paused in turning down the blankets on the double bed, frowning at Carla with obvious confusion. “Stupid? I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Then why would you think we’d swallow your story about us being fifty years in the future?”
Bree’s plump, previously cheerful face hardened. She straightened with a snap. “Because it’s the truth! I don’t know how you got here. Maybe you’re the crazy ones! Why should I believe you’re from the Times Before?”
When Carla glared, speechless, Bree softened. “It is 2064. Think about it. Does this seem like 2014? Mr. Gray taught us what it was like in the Times Before. There were lots of women. They could go anywhere they wanted, even by themselves, and sometimes they didn’t even get married. There were so many people that some cities had a million people living in them. And houses had things we don’t have, like lights that didn’t need oil or candles, and furnaces that didn’t need wood or chips to burn to make heat. You could wash clothes without any work, and you could run a car to travel to far off places, and you could talk on a sail fun to people a thousand miles away. Right? That’s what Mr. Gray says, and he lived back then.”
Sail fun? “You mean a cell phone?” Lisa said.
“Yes. When you were walking, did you see anything like that? Were there lots of people everywhere you looked? Lots of women? Cars?”
Lisa exchanged a look with Carla. The singer looked more stunned than angry. She said weakly, “It’s impossible.”
“You don’t need to worry.” Bree patted her arm comfortingly. “Honest. My dad will take care of everything. He’s busy right now doing what needs to be done. Later, you can talk to Eddie. H
e loves to fiddle with the things from the Times Before. He can tell you lots more. Come on, get into bed and take a rest.”
“But what about doctors?” Carla said more strongly. “Are there doctors to take care of the injured at the plane?”
“Of course we have doctors. We have two doctors besides the midwife and the veterinarian. Two vets, if you count Eddie. He’s studied animal doctoring with Dex Entilt since he was twelve years old. Really, it’s going to be okay. You just sleep now. I’ll call you for supper.”
Lisa got into the bed as Bree tiptoed out. The mattress sagged as Carla sat down. “Do you think it could be true?”
“Of course not,” said Carla stoutly. “Planes don’t jump fifty years into the future when they crash.”
“Should we leave?” Lisa asked hesitantly. “Try to find someone else?”
“Not without our clothes,” Carla replied grimly, plucking at the collar of the granny nightgown.
Good point. Lisa tried to sleep, but so many thoughts were whirling around her head that she couldn’t. Except she did, and dreamed of a four year old boy who looked a lot like Eddie smiling up at her as he died.
Chapter 3
Eddie followed his father out to the yard where several of his father’s men waited for them. Steve Herrick straightened up from his lean against the barn and came forward alertly.
“So what’s with the women, Ray?”
Eddie watched his father closely. The mayor took in a deep breath, puffing his chest out importantly. “Gentlemen, we will be hosting a Bride Fight to see who will have the honor of making these two ladies their wives.”
“Dad,” said Eddie. “Lisa—Miss Anton, I mean—I want to marry her.”
The mayor peered at Eddie consideringly. “Well, I could see you was took with her. No reason you shouldn’t enter the Bride Fight, I reckon. We’ll talk to your mother, see what she says.”
“Dad,” he began again.
