by Daphne Lamb
He cleared his throat. “I was in town,” he said. “When the incident happened. There was a friend. Well, you remember Paul, my old roommate.”
“Oh, so you were in town, stopping by to see people you were close to but didn’t get closure with.” I nodded. “How’d that turn out?”
If he noticed my biting tone, he wasn’t letting on. “Why are you harassing this boy?” he asked.
The kid stared up at me and gave another jerk, but I held steadfast.
“I have a funny way of not letting immature boys just run off without accepting responsibility for what they’ve done.”
Jake blanched slightly, but the kid finally let go.
“Fine,” the kid said. “It’s stupid and smells bad.”
“If you find a mirror, repeat that statement to yourself.”
The kid ran off.
Jake shook his head. “Where’s your compassion?” he asked. “It’s needed more than ever.”
“Did you give him your bag?”
“I have no belongings,” he said proudly. “And if I did, I’d share what I had. We live in a world where some things are no longer important. I’m less encumbered and have learned what freedom really is.”
“Must be nice,” I said. “To just let go of any responsibility and not worry about what people close to you might think.”
He deflated. “It was so long ago,” he said. “Why are you so angry?”
“Why so angry?” I asked. My voice rose over the crowd noise. “Why the animosity? You never apologized!”
“I’ve made my peace with what happened,” he said. “I would think you would too.”
“You never gave any closure!” I said. “You just left!”
Heat rushed all over me and adrenaline coursed through every vein in my body.
“You got to leave and pretend like nothing ever happened!” I said. “You didn’t even apologize.”
He shrugged. “It was best to leave. I thought we agreed on that. How’s your family, by the way?”
“You left in the middle of the night and told me if I didn’t come with you we were done. That’s where you left things. And I don’t know how they are. I keep trying to look, but stupid things like this happen.”
I folded my arms, completely frustrated at this gangly man I used to spend so much of my time and emotions with.
“It wasn’t the most positive thing I could have done.” He took several deep breaths. “You look great,” he said. “It looks like you’ve done really well for yourself.”
“Still not an apology.” I tightly clutched my bag to myself. “It’s good to know you’ve done well as a human Hallmark card.”
I turned away and ignored the sound of Jake calling my name. I didn’t even know where I was going, just started walking away until something grabbed my arm.
It was Robert, offering me a cup of water.
“Hey!” he said. “I’ve been calling your name.”
“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just noisy.”
“You were moving awfully fast,” he said.
“Kid tried to steal my bag,” I said defensively. I held it up to show him.
“I hope you kicked his ass.”
“Almost the opposite happened,” I said, dejected. “But thank you for taking my side.”
He nodded and led me back to our blankets. “You’re really red,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “Let’s just get through another night.”
As I sat, he smoothed out the blanket.
“And it looks like you’ve had no problem moving on,” Jake said. “Who’s this handsome drink of water?”
We both looked up as Jake stood over us, hand extended in friendship. Robert took it and vigorously shook it.
“This is my boss, Robert,” I said. “And not that it’s any of your business, but you left five years ago. And for your information, I’ve had a lot of boyfriends since then, not just whatever comes around. Ask around.”
“Plus, her boyfriend is dead,” Robert said. “It’s awkward, but she’s available, in case there’s anything you kids want to rekindle.”
I shook my head. “These are the kind of conversations we can look forward to,” I said. “So thank you, Apocalypse.”
Jake put his hands up. “I’m just saying. There’s no need for animosity.”
“Really?” I asked. “Is that your idea of an apology?”
He pulled out a bag, reached inside and withdrew something square shaped and wrapped in plastic. “Can I offer you a sandwich?”
I took it and tore into it. “Ham and cheese?”
He nodded. “You like ham and cheese, remember?” he said. “We went to that Subway near Malibu Beach. You got a ham and cheese.”
“Well.” I smiled. “They were out of roast beef.” I said. “Thank you. By chance is there a roast beef in there?”
“I’d have to look,” he said. “Most people don’t make me go through all of it—”
“Sorry,” I said. “You’re right, this is good.”
He offered one to Robert. “I think this one might be turkey,” he said.
Robert took it. “Thanks, man.” He turned to me. “He’s great. Maybe you two should get back together.”
Jake turned to me. “For what it’s worth,” he said. “I’m sorry. What I did to you was unacceptable.”
I nodded. “Apology accepted,” I said. “And thank you.”
“Have you had the tour?” he said. “Not to brag, but I think we’ve got humanity up and running the way it should be.”
I surveyed the crowded area, wrinkling my nose at a smell that could best be described as combining the worst of everything.
“This is all you?” I said, looking up to his sincere face.
“I can’t take all the credit, of course.” He bent down to pick up a stray soccer ball, and then threw it to some kids who looked bored. “But quite a few of my ideas are in play here.”
“Like what?”
He pointed to the far east side of the room where people were doing a sloppy and unsynchronized version of yoga. “Over there, we’ve got some positive physical exercise going on.”
He gestured over to where two girls had their hands in makeshift sock puppets, doing an animated song and dance number. “Entertaining the children, of course. Whitney Houston was right. They are the future.”
“The food line?” I said. “Was that yours too?”
He shook his head and seemed a little disappointed in himself. “I envisioned a large communal tub of soup, but there weren’t any tubs big enough. Plus, someone got murdered in the prototype.”
I nodded. “Sorry to hear that.”
A group of people in the opposite side of the room caught my eye. They were gathered in a circle, eyes closed, singing something.
“What’s that?” I gestured to it with my finger.
“Church,” he sighed. “People getting in touch with their spirituality.”
“What kind of church?” I said. “Do they have a pastor?”
He steered me towards where women were going through great piles of clothes. “No, we tried to have some kind of structure, but no one could agree on who or what to worship much less the message. Every idea we threw out, someone got offended by it.”
I studied them again as the congregation made some kind of nonsense hand gestures that weren’t in time with anyone else’s.
“So they’re just doing whatever they want,” he said. “When they figure out the meaning of life, maybe they’ll clue the rest of us into it.”
“At least you’re trying,” I gave him an encouraging smile.
He reached out and squeezed my arm. “I’ve been waiting to see that smile for a long time now.”
He walked away. I felt warmth of familiarity come over
me as I watched him go. He bent down and gave a sandwich to a little girl, then offered her a hug. It’d been so long since I was with a genuinely nice person, and I was being convicted for being so stubborn about a bag. It was all coming back. I was reminded again of when I wanted to marry him.
Robert smacked me on the hand with his turkey sandwich. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“I remember when you two broke up,” he said. “Mostly I remember you sitting at your desk, not doing your job. Particularly the time someone came to me asking for your reports and they found you in the bathroom sobbing.”
“Okay, look—”
“Anything would just send you off. Your cubicle neighbor kept playing that Adele album—”
“That’s not entirely what it was—”
“It came up as an agenda topic during a senior staff meeting. The consensus was, let’s ban Adele’s music. It makes the sad employee downstairs even sadder and it’s distracting.”
“I think we get your point—”
“I announced my nephew, Taylor Lautner, was coming in and anyone could come and meet him and you said you couldn’t be in the same room as anyone named Jake.”
“Thanks, Robert,” I said. “I had no idea how far your empathy spread.”
“Hear me out on this,” he said, taking a bite. “I know when a girl’s had her heart broken. I’ve done it plenty of times I’ve watched it even more times. Mostly because that Pretty Little Liars show is deceptively emotionally layered.”
I watched Jake now entertain four kids with a quarter and a woman’s scarf as Robert rolled his eyes.
“I will not talk to you until you get that silly half smile on your face.”
“What?” I asked.
“I’m giving you gold pearls of wisdom,” he said. “Don’t waste it.”
I sighed. “What?”
“He made you miserable,” he said. “I remember. No one who would have cared about you that much would have put you through the kind of hell you went through. I saw it on your face every day.” He shoved my sandwich at me. “You didn’t eat for months. I would see you in the break room, tearing up your food in these sad pieces. It was so awkward, and I was like, who is this sad person?”
I took a bite and nodded. Ham and cheese was way better than I remembered.
“He had his good points,” I said. “Never failed to convict me on what I could be doing. He genuinely cared about me.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and then threw my blanket at me. “Eat your sandwich,” he said. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see if you’re sane in the morning.”
I don’t know if you’ve ever slept in quarantine, but sleep is almost impossible to get. The lights never shut off, there is weird smells, bodies are rolling up against you and the noise level never goes down. So I laid there and spent my time thinking instead. Every now and then I looked at Robert, who apparently, could just sleep anywhere, despite his previous pleas for lumbar support. He used his book as a pillow and spooned a tiny brunette.
Jake, on the other hand, nursed someone who was throwing up violently. I watched that happen too, my mind traveling back to when I threw up in the bathroom of that Italian place and he stood by the door. He left to jump start someone’s car and then disappeared for another hour to meet their kids. It was the ultimate in attention trumping that I couldn’t argue with.
As I stared at the scenes of human interaction around me, I thought maybe my sarcasm did get in the way of happiness, both in myself and in others. And maybe I was wrong to let Jake go. Someone so willing to put themselves in another person’s filth could never be on the wrong side of the argument. Probably why Mother Theresa was single—she was too good for everyone. Seemingly so, anyway.
It was at some point I got up and went to the public bathrooms, which were port-a-potties at the far end of the wall. When I was done, I washed my hands in a long trough of sinks that were being used for a variety of purposes. Jake followed me there, cleaning himself off.
He saw me and smiled. I smiled back. He motioned me to come over.
“I have a confession to make,” he whispered.
“Oh?”
He smiled. “It’s like God has something bigger than this planned.”
I nodded. “What are we up to now? Three Biblical plagues? Seems about right.”
“Are you still staying over on the east wing?”
“If east is that way.” I pointed to where Robert slept soundly. “Then yes.”
He took my hands. His were wet, but I didn’t mind.
“I’ll come and find you in the morning,” he said. “We have so much to catch up on, and I know time is a precious resource. Especially since we’re on such a good vibe.”
I nodded again.
“I really missed you,” he said. “Not everyone could make me laugh like you.”
I smiled. “There’s no one really like you,” I said.
“That means a lot to me.” He let go of my hands and smiled softly. “I’ll find you.”
I went back to where Robert was still sleeping. Next to him was a middle-aged woman who had a shiny bag near her. Her eyes were closed, but I could see into the shiny bag. A tube of Clinique lipstick stuck out of it so I reached over and took it, then slipped it into my pocket. Somehow I was able to sleep after that.
* * *
I stood in the breakfast line wearing lipstick, but I couldn’t find Jake. The woman who had slept next to me had gone into hysterics over her missing lipstick.
“Where the fuck is it?” she screamed. “Some asshole thinks they can steal my lipstick?”
I stared at the floor, holding my bowl. I pursed my lips, momentarily hiding them.
Robert stared down at me.
“Someone’s all dressed up. When did you go lipstick shopping?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know anything about the time you took my spot in line and therefore took the last chicken Caesar salad.”
“You’re visualizing salads now?” He looked confused.
“No, this was two years ago,” I said. “And I didn’t say anything then, but it really bothered me.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “We’re living in a different world now. No one cares about salad.”
“But we should care about lipstick?”
He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep sigh and looked down at the lipstick in my hand.
“Fine.”
I made my way back to the woman who shouted at one of the security guards and made wild gesticulations with her arms.
“What kind of operation is this?” she asked, teeth bared. “I close my eyes and everyone thinks its open season?”
“Ma’am,” said the tired guard. “It’s lipstick. I’m sorry for your loss. Hopefully, this is the worst thing that happens to you during this time.”
“You’re not going to help?” she asked, grabbing the lapels of his uniform. “You’re not going to interrogate anyone?”
“Excuse me,” I said, gently approaching them. “I think this belongs to you.”
I held out the tube and waited for her to turn her wrath on me. Instead, she slowly took it out of my hand, staring at it in awe.
“You had this,” she said. “You? And now you’re giving it back?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry, I took it and it was wrong.”
She nodded and cleared her throat. Her breath quickened and her cheeks went flush. For a moment, I thought she was going to break into tears. She pointed at me and hissed at the guard. “And that’s how you do it!”
She turned on her heel and marched off in the other direction. The guard looked at me.
“Did that make any sense to you?” he asked.
I shook my head when Jake approached me. He gave me an approving nod then gently squeezed my shoulder. I smiled broadly at him, staring at
his hand.
“Hi,” I said.
“That was so nice of you.”
“What was?” I said. “What’s on tap for breakfast?”
“You’re going to be the glue that holds this place together. I can feel it.” His face was worried and gaunt. “It’s oatmeal,” he said sadly. “I tried to get cinnamon, but…you know. People will be so disappointed in me.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“More importantly, we have to bunker down,” he said. “I wanted to let the two of you know first, but don’t say anything to panic anyone.”
Robert stared at him, then me. “What are you talking about?”
“Sometimes we have to put the quarantine under lockdown,” Jake said quietly. “It’s because of the Wanderers.”
“The who?”
“They wander and pillage,” he said. “They’re ruthless. They came a few weeks ago, made an awful noise and terrified us all. They also killed an old man.”
“And you say they’re coming?” Robert asked. “How do you know this?”
Jake started to shake his head. “We have access to a weak satellite signal,” he said. “We know when they’re coming.”
“So what happens?” I asked.
“We’re going to cut the power,” Jake said. “Soon. We hope that if they think there’s nothing here, they’ll pass by it.”
“There’s no way,” I said. “Have you seen how many people are packed in?”
“It worked once,” Jake said. “There were less of us at the time. That’s the key. But people tend to put aside their fears in times of trauma.”
“According to who?” I asked.
“Let me know if you need help.” Robert offered his hand.
Jake shook his hand. ”I’ll remember that.”
Word spread and rather quickly. I expected pandemonium, but instead, people seemed to take it in stride. In the afternoon everyone carried boards in a single file line toward the outside of the quarantine. We watched it for a while before Robert joined in. It was at that point I noticed a woman my age, chin-length short, dark hair, stocky build, wearing a University of Texas sweatshirt. She stared at me.
When the sun started going down, that’s when the lights began to shut off. I sat in the same sleeping spot as the night before and waited for Robert and Jake to come back. Robert came by first and Jake joined him as the last lights were being turned.
