Gathering Home

by JEFF MOTES

  In the bedroom, I pick my clothes from yesterday up and sniff. Nope. They’re going to have to be washed. My other clothes are in my pack. My bra needs washing too, but I’m not going downstairs without one on. From a dresser drawer, I get a pair of Amy’s undies. The supply of clean clothes is dwindling. We are definitely going to have to wash today. I slip the undies and bra on, then my pants and shirt. Standing in front of the mirror, I brush my hair. It needs washing, too.

  Images of Will’s face so close to mine last night flood my mind. I take the shirt back off, step into the bathroom, and use the remaining water to wash my hair. The water is cold, and I’m shivering as I towel my hair dry. I want to look nice for Will today. He’s going to say those words. I just know he is.

  When I enter the kitchen, Mrs. Lynn is sitting at the table reading at a magazine. “Where is everybody?” I ask.

  “Jimmy and Will are outside talking with Pastor Ezell. Amy is in—”

  “Here I am,” Amy says from behind me.

  She’s still in her nightclothes. “Where have you been?” I ask.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I came downstairs, then I got in…my mom’s bed.”

  Will’s and Mr. Wright’s voices drift in from the yard. They’re coming up the steps. I take Amy by the hand and lead her to the staircase.

  “Amy, go get dressed. No more walking around here like this while Will’s here.”

  “Do you think me wearing this would make any difference?” she retorts.

  “Whether it does or not doesn’t matter. You’re getting dressed.”

  She washes up in the bathroom and comes to the bedroom to dress.

  “A bra, Amy. Put a bra on.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  She gets one from her dresser.

  “Lizzy, is it possible for a guy to have two girlfriends? I mean, if he’s a really good guy, couldn’t he have two?”

  I’m stunned by her question. What is she asking?

  “I don’t think a really good guy is going to want two girlfriends,” I reply.

  “Maybe not.”

  She stares at the floor, then lifts her head and looks directly at me. “What if two really good friends liked the same guy? Couldn’t they share?”

  I don’t like where this is going. I don’t like it at all!

  “Think about it,” Amy says. “That’s all I’m saying. Just think about it.”

  She runs out the door and down the stairs before I can say anything.

  I stand there in confusion for a few moments. What is she asking? Is she asking if Will can be her boyfriend too? Jealousy wells up inside me, and my anger mounts.

  Amy has been my best friend for years. She’s never showed an interest in Will. All the guys hanging around her have been jocks and some of them with bad reputations just like Josh. Now, during these apocalyptic times, she’s interested in Will? She wants me to share Will with her? I feel sorry for her. But share Will? Absolutely not!

  I walk down the stairs. Everybody is in the kitchen talking about the deer. Will looks up, comes over, and gives me a long hug. A longer hug than the past few days. The Wrights are all staring at us. I feel my face blush.

  “Good morning, Lizzy,” he says.

  “Good morning, Will.”

  “Good morning, Lizzy,” Mrs. Lynn says. “Would you like some oatmeal?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Amy glares at me, then goes out the kitchen door.

  “Mr. Wright, we need to build a smokehouse of some kind. I didn’t notice much lumber around your place yesterday. Got any ideas on what we could use?”

  “There is an old metal shed out back that was here when we bought the property,” Mr. Wright answers. “Do you think we could use it? It’s full of junk.”

  “Let’s go check it out,” Will replies.

  “Lynn, I’ll put the tenderloins on the grill. We’ll smoke the hams. So how about season the tenderloins?”

  “Okay, I’ll get them ready.”

  I step outside with Mr. Wright and Will. Will has his pistol on his hip like he’s had every day since he’s been here. I think Mr. Wright has his pistol in his pocket, though I can’t be sure. I should have brought my shotgun, too. I better quit forgetting things. I’m walking a little behind them, but Will reaches for my hand. We follow a few steps behind Mr. Wright. Amy is at the edge of the woods picking wildflowers. I look up at Will. I shouldn’t have run from him last night. I should have stayed. I was just scared. I’ve never felt like that before.

  Mr. Wright opens the door. It’s pretty dusty inside. The building isn’t large, maybe eight feet wide by eight feet deep.

  “I think this will work, Mr. Wright. We need to get all this stuff out and sweep the dust off the ceiling and the walls. You don’t want that falling on the meat while it’s being smoked.”

  “Okay. Do you think you, Lizzy, and Amy can clean it out while I go cut the deer into strips?”

  “We can do that. I think it would be best if you cut those strips about a quarter-inch thick. That’s the way Grandpa did, and it worked good. What about all this stuff? What do you want to do with it?”

  “It’s all junk and probably should have been thrown away years ago. Pile it up outside somewhere out of the way. I’ll get Lynn to check it out later.”

  Mr. Wright walks off.

  “Well, Lizzy, we have a chore here.”

  “Yes, we do.” Will stops me as I start to go inside the shed. He pulls me a little closer, and my heart starts beating a little faster.

  “Lizzy, I wanted to tell you something last night, but things got in the way.” He pauses briefly. “Please don’t run away.”

  I swallow nervously. “I won’t run away.”

  His eyes are gazing directly into mine. Yes, Will, please say it!

  His mouth opens to speak.

  “Hey, you two. Dad asked me to help clean the shed out. Is this what we’re going to use for a smokehouse? How are we going to do that?”

  Frowning slightly, I glance at Amy. She doesn’t hold my gaze.

  “I guess Will is going to show us once we get it cleaned out. Let’s get started.”

  I turn to go inside, and Will stops me again.

  “Lizzy, it’s going to be dusty in there. Would you mind going to my pack and getting my dust masks and my shemagh? I’ll get started. Amy, can you find a couple of brooms and a dust pan?”

  “Sure,” Amy says, then heads to the garage.

  “Shemagh?” I respond. “What’s that?”

  Will smiles a little. “It’s a large head scarf but made for men. Mine is tan and brown. You’ll see it.”

  “A head scarf made for men? Does it have a zipper?”

  I laugh, then my face turns red as I consider how that sounded. I run off for the house before Will can see me blushing.

  I go to Mrs. Lynn’s hobby room, where Mr. Wright set a bed up for Will. Will’s big tan pack is leaning against the wall. I attempt to pick it up. Wow! The thing is heavy! I decide to leave it on the floor.

  Opening the pack, I search for the dust masks and the man-scarf. I wonder if that’s what the guy on Fox News would call it. The guy with the man-purse. Can’t remember his name. He would be on TV in the morning while Mom and I were getting ready for the day.

  Oh, Mother! Where are you? I so want to see you! Dear God, please protect my mother! Mom, I love you.

  There is a lot of stuff inside this pack. I had no idea Will had all this stuff. I find the items, close the pack, and head for the door. I glance over at the bed. Will must have tossed and turned a lot during the night. Both sides of the bed and both pillows are messed up. Why didn’t he make the bed? For some reason, it seems out of character for Will, though honestly I have no idea if he makes his bed in the mornings.

  Amy is already at the shed with the brooms. Will comes out carrying an old chair and sets it on the pile of other items he’s brought out. “Two dust masks and one man-scarf.” I give him the items.

  He smiles. He is
always smiling. I glance at Amy. She averts her eyes.

  “You and Amy wear one of these masks, and I’ll wear the shemagh.”

  It’s not long before we have everything from inside sitting on the ground not far from the shed.

  “Now let’s get as much of this dust out of here as we can,” Will says.

  “Lizzy and I can do it,” Amy says. She has hardly spoken at all since the bedroom.

  Will glances over at me questioningly.

  “Sure, Amy and I’ll do it.”

  Will nods. “Okay, I’ll work on getting something to build a fire in.”

  Amy and I start knocking the dust off the rafters and walls of the little shed. Dust is flying everywhere. I’m so glad Will had the dust masks! We don’t talk much while we work and things are awkward, each of us occasionally glancing at the other. Finally, the dusty deed is done, and we go outside.

  We both remove our dust masks. I glance over at Amy, and I have to laugh. Her once-dark hair looks like somebody highlighted it with gray.

  “Amy, you should see yourself in a mirror. You look like an old lady.”

  She frowns. “Maybe I am.”

  We both laugh.

  “How are we going to get all of this off?” Amy asks. “The pool is too dirty to swim in.”

  I hadn’t thought of that.

  Will walks up pushing a wheelbarrow of bricks. He starts laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “You two should really look in a mirror.”

  I toss the dust mask to him.

  “Why don’t you get the water hose and hose each other off?” he says. “You’re both covered in dust.”

  “Yeah,” Amy says. “That’s a good idea.”

  After she walks away, I roll my eyes. “Will, you are mean.”

  Amy stops at the hose and picks it up, then her expression changes, and she stomps off to the house. I shake my head and chuckle.

  Will steps a little closer and wipes some of the dust off my face with his man-scarf. I feel embarrassed. I washed my hair this morning just for him, and now it’s covered in dust!

  “You really need a bath.”

  “Yeah, I do. But how is that going to happen? The pool water is turning green.”

  “Maybe after we get the smokehouse set up and the meat smoking, we can go to the creek you’ve been talking about. We need to haul some water up here anyway.”

  “That’s a good idea. What do we have to do to finish this up?”

  “Let’s get some of the old fence wire we put in the pile over there and hang it from the rafters, then set up a fire pit.”

  “Why are you putting fence wire inside?”

  “To hang the meat on. We’ll tie the wire to the rafters and let it hang flat, kind of like a net. Let’s do a couple of layers. That should be enough to hold all the meat.”

  We pull the old fence wire out of the pile, and I help Will roll it out.

  “The wire has different size holes in it. Won’t the meat fall out?”

  “This type of fence is what is commonly called hog wire. The rectangular openings near the bottom of the fence are smaller than at the top. Supposed to help keep small pigs in until they get bigger.”

  “I see that, but aren’t the smallest openings still too large?”

  “Not really. We aren’t going to lay the meat flat. We’re going to drape it over the wire so it hangs down. If we had some chicken wire, we could lay the meat flat, but we’ll have to use what we have.”

  “Will, how do you know all this stuff? You knew how to help Tamika’s mom, you knew what to do when those evil men came over, you know this… I had no idea you knew so much. How?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. Using a pair of pliers, he cuts two pieces of the fence about five feet long. He bends a hook in the wire at each of the corners.

  “Lizzy, my dad is a very smart man, and so is my grandpa. They’ve taught me many things, and I like to learn. I’ve been to lots of training classes. I read and do a lot of research on the internet. Well, I did when we had internet. Dad and I have hundreds of how-to videos saved. Some are on my old iPhone. Plus, we haven’t had a TV in over two years, so what else was I going to do?”

  We carry the two pieces of wire to the shed and set them on the concrete floor.

  “Let’s check the garage. We need a ladder and some string,” Will says.

  On our way to the garage, I glance at the hose and shake my head. Sometimes I think Amy should have been a blonde.

  We return to the shed with a blue six-foot fiberglass ladder and a roll of nylon string.

  “How about you hold the ladder for me while I tie the string to the rafters?” he suggests.

  “Sure.”

  He cuts several long pieces of string and folds them in half.

  “I’m going to use a cow hitch to hang the string from the rafters. It’s pretty easy to tie.”

  I watch him closely. While standing on the ladder, he pushes the loop end of the string over the top of one of the rafters and lets it hang right below the bottom of the rafter. Then he does something I’m not able to follow. He moves the ladder and repeats this process three more times.

  “We need six of these strings hanging down. One for each of the corners and two to support the wire in the middle of each side.”

  “Will, can you show me how to tie the knot and let me do the remaining two strings?”

  “Yeah. That’s good you’re taking an interest in this.”

  “I know our world has changed. I’m not going to cower in fear and ignorance. These are things I need to learn if I’m going to be a woman for these times.”

  His smile broadens, and I want to reach out and hold him close. Instead, I just hold his gaze.

  He gives me one of the strings and holds the other in both hands and shows me what he’s doing.

  “We’re using a cow hitch to place the string on the rafters. It’s really easy. Fold the string in half like this. Now you have a loop on one end and both ends of the string on the other. Take the loop end over the top of the rafter and bring it down the other side until it’s right below the bottom of the rafter. Next, take the tail end and run both string ends through the loop and pull it tight. Now you have a cow hitch.”

  “That seems easy enough. Why is it called a cow hitch?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never used it on a cow. I have an app on my iPhone that shows you how to do all kinds of knots. I’ll show it to you later. We also have lots of books at home in our library showing you how to do things like this.”

  I still marvel his iPhone is working, though it doesn’t have any service.

  “How did you keep your iPhone and other stuff from getting damaged?”

  “Dad and I kept a lot of electronic stuff in Faraday boxes.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “A Faraday box is an all-metal box that completely seals out electromagnetic waves from its contents,” he explains. “It has to have a metal seal. No gaskets and no air gaps. Then you electrically insulate the items inside the box from the sides of the box. Well, it worked. A Faraday box doesn’t really have to be a box. You can wrap your electronics in bubble wrap then wrap that tightly with aluminum foil and it’ll do the same thing.”

  Will holds the ladder while I climb up to put the cow hitch over a rafter.

  “Your place, what’s it like, Will?”

  He moves the ladder to the last remaining place for the string.

  “At my house, nearly everything is like it was before the EMP. We have electricity, lights, refrigeration, water, and hot water. Well, almost like before the EMP. The oven isn’t working, but I think we have the spare parts to get it going. The air conditioning isn’t working, and I’m not sure we’re going to be able to use it. Plus the internet is down.”

  “You left all that to come stay out here?”

  I’m off the ladder standing next to him.

  “No, Lizzy. I left there to come out here for you. I’
m staying out here for you. Lizzy, I–”

  My heart is starting to run again. I know what he is going to say. I’m too dirty for him to say that right now.

  “Wait, Will. Not yet. Not while I’m covered in this dust.”

  He smiles, and my heart melts even more.

  “Okay, Lizzy, if that’s what you want.”

  “Let’s get all this done so I can get cleaned up.”

  I hold the fence up while Will ties a loop into each of the corner strings. We hang the corners, then he ties the middle ones. The wire is a little more than four feet above the floor. He ties loops in the tails of the remaining string, and we hang the second fence section.

  “All right, let’s set up the fire pit,” he says.

  He moves the wheelbarrow closer to the door and removes a piece of white plastic pipe from across the handles.

  “Get the hammer and tin snips, Lizzy.”

  I get them from the wheelbarrow and follow him to the side of the shed.

  “What’s all this for?”

  “Air supply for the smoke fire. We don’t need much, though we do need some. I’m going to notch the tin here at the bottom and slide the pipe in. On the inside, we’ll lay some bricks in a circle to contain the fire. Hand me the hammer, please.”

  He hooks the claw around some funny-looking nails holding the tin in place and pulls them out. It makes a screeching sound, and it hurts my ears. He removes enough nails to pull the tin away from the bottom. Working the snips under the bottom edge, he cuts a square hole large enough for the pipe near the bottom and nails the tin back in place.

  Inside, he kneels near the middle of the floor. “Here, take my gloves and pass me some bricks.”

  I take them from his hand and put them on. They’re way too big. I start passing him the bricks. He makes a circle about two feet in diameter two bricks high, leaving a gap for the plastic pipe. He lays out an inner wall of bricks to the same height. After placing the pipe about halfway inside the gap, he stands and wipes his hands on his pants. One hand has blood on it.

  “Will, you’ve cut yourself. You should have kept your gloves.”