Sudden Independents

by Ted Hill

  Food was prepared fresh; refrigeration was lost along with electricity, indoor plumbing and cable television. The Brittanys decorated the walls with lots of things that belonged in either museums or garage sales, reminding Jimmy of Chili’s and Applebee’s restaurants from long ago. Those who recalled the canned-food years with dread jokingly referred to Brittany’s as TGIF: Thank God It’s Fresh.

  “What’s on the menu tonight, Brittany?” Samuel asked.

  “Chef Brittany has acquired a large amount of catfish, thanks to Dylan and the boys. They were up all night and in their words, ‘they killed.’ Our side dishes will be mashed potatoes and eggplant, thanks to you guys.”

  “Don’t thank me for the eggplant,” Samuel said, discreetly pointing in Jimmy’s direction.

  “I saw that,” Jimmy said.

  “Excuse me.” Brittany scurried back to her post.

  “Why do they wait for her to seat them?” Samuel said. “It’s not like they’re going to sit somewhere different.”

  Jimmy glanced up front at the impatient cluster of boys and girls; some with freshly washed hands and others with permanent stains. “The younger kids switch it up a lot. They’re still working out their friendships.”

  “Hey, I can take a hint. You’re welcome to move if you need to branch out.”

  “You’re so sensitive.” Jimmy stood up. “Anyways, I’m done making friends. I got a town full of them.” He slid out the wooden chair beside him for the very pregnant young woman waddling his way. “Good evening, Vanessa. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m just fine for a walking balloon. I’m ready to pop and get this experience over.” Vanessa maneuvered into the chair and thanked Brittany for her wrapped napkin.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Brittany asked Vanessa. Everyone in town was overly helpful ever since Vanessa started to show. Jimmy smiled at the elected mother of their community, voted in by a silent majority.

  “I’m all right, sweetie. You better get back up there before they start to riot.”

  The mob at the door was spilling over trying to get out of the sun. Brittany dashed away.

  Vanessa separated her napkin from the utensils and wiped the sweat from her face. “How hot is it going to get this summer?” She waved toward her boyfriend, Mark, as he entered the room. “I can’t believe how much I sweat.”

  “The temperature has been climbing a lot higher lately,” Jimmy said. “Maybe we should bring one of the generators to the school so you can run a fan or a window unit.”

  Mark eased into the chair on the opposite side of Vanessa. “I already tried that once,” he said. “She wouldn’t allow it.”

  “We don’t need to waste our resources on my comforts,” Vanessa said. “Besides, the heat is keeping me in shape.”

  “And what shape would that be?” Samuel asked.

  “Bite me, Sammy.”

  A thin boy joined their group, collapsing on the empty seat next to Samuel and dropping a thick book and black leather bag underneath his chair.

  “Hey, Luis, do you know what to do yet?” Samuel asked.

  Luis started to speak, but croaked instead. He grabbed his water glass and gulped the contents. “I think so,” he finally answered. “It’ll be my first delivery.”

  “Hopefully not the last.” Samuel nudged Luis in the ribs. “Does that big medical book have any pictures?”

  “Mark, we might have to move,” Vanessa said.

  “Why’s that, honey?”

  “Because I’m about to throw my fork at Sammy’s head and see if it sticks.”

  “That’s cool,” Samuel said. “I think Jimmy wants to move to another table, too. I don’t mind eating by myself.”

  Jimmy clapped Samuel on the shoulder. “It might be easier if you moved, instead. Or you could behave and let everyone enjoy their supper in peace.”

  “I’ll be good. I promise. Hey, look over there. Here comes the fashion squad, running fashionably late.”

  Jimmy gazed up at Ginger as she passed to sit at their table, appreciating the way her hair fell over one eye, the soft tan of her skin, her curves. She glanced his way and Jimmy quickly averted his interest to ceiling tiles.

  Mark pulled another chair out for his twin sister, Molly.

  Only two seats remained empty and it didn’t take long to be noticed. “So where’s your brother?” Vanessa asked Jimmy. “And mine?”

  Mark cleared his throat. “Uh, Scout went searching for Hunter this morning.”

  “Again? I bet he was real happy about that.”

  “Not really,” Mark said, glancing at Jimmy, who fidgeted with the brim of his hat.

  “I’m sorry, Vanessa,” Jimmy said. “But I needed Scout’s help. Hunter’s two days late.”

  “Hunter’s always two days late.” She leaned over and offered Jimmy’s hand a little pat. “Scout will find him. Don’t worry; I’m sure Hunter’s fine. If anyone can handle themselves in the Big Bad, it’s those two.”

  Chef Brittany assumed her position at the head of a long table where the prepared food waited for takers. She lifted a small musical triangle. The room quieted for a short anticipatory second while Brittany surveyed the room with a smile.

  “Dinner is served,” she announced, and rang the triangle.

  Wooden chairs knocked against hardwood floors and everyone formed two lines on either side of the buffet. The other two of the four Brittany’s circled the room, replacing the empty water pitchers. Jimmy moved slowly through the long line, loading his plate with warm, buttery food and then he hustled back to his seat.

  Samuel sat and immediately stuffed his face, heedless of Jimmy’s disapproving stare. Jimmy waited patiently for his other dining companions to return before eating. He forked into his eggplant and remembered the flowers. “Hey, Vanessa, did the kids plant a flower bed at our house this afternoon?”

  “No,” she said, pausing over the full plate of catfish and pickles that Mark gave her. Everyone in town went crazy when one of the Brittanys rediscovered the pickling process. “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

  Jimmy shook his head with disbelief. Samuel laughed with his mouth open and full of food. Then Jimmy caught Ginger staring at him as he topped off his water. He smiled back, she dropped eye contact and he sloshed water on the table.

  Sponging up the mess with his napkin, Jimmy noticed Molly glaring at Ginger. “How are things at the sewing shop, Molly? Are the new recruits working out okay?”

  Molly perked up with a big smile and batted her eyelashes at him. “They’re doing wonderful, Jimmy. Thank you so much for the extra help. I desperately needed it. We were getting a bit behind on the winter clothing. My assistant decided to take on some extra work.”

  “What extra work?” Jimmy asked.

  “Ask her.” Molly stabbed her fork in Vanessa’s direction.

  Samuel coughed and whispered, “Disengage,” in Jimmy’s direction.

  Mark stopped eating. “What’s wrong, Molly?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about it, Mark. It’s really nothing,” Molly said, refolding the napkin in her lap.

  “Sounds like you want to make it something,” Vanessa said.

  Jimmy chewed on a piece of catfish, careful not to choke on a bone. Molly glowered at Vanessa while Vanessa appeared annoyed, like she’d been playing this game since she started seeing Mark and was really over it. Mark wore his concerned brother expression, after setting down his fork and giving Molly his full attention. Ginger and Luis did the smart thing and gazed at their plates. Jimmy seriously considered finding a less combustible dining party.

  “Jimmy’s afraid of dying,” Samuel said.

  The bone Jimmy was chewing around snapped.

  Vanessa rubbed circles on his back. “We’re all afraid of dying, Sammy, but thank you so much for sharing. I bet Jimmy will want to thank you later personally.”

  “Count on it,” Jimmy said under his breath.

  Vanessa regarded Molly like sunshine on morning f
rost. “What’s your problem this time?”

  Molly’s smoldering composure ignited. She stabbed her fork through her catfish filet and left it standing there. “I don’t have a problem. It’s obvious you have a problem with me. I can’t believe you went behind my back to have your baby clothes made.”

  “Oh, that.” Vanessa directed a sympathetic look toward Ginger, and then faced Molly again. “You weren’t interested when I asked you for help a couple of months ago, so I asked Ginger. But I did ask you first.”

  “I thought we decided to wait to see if the baby was a boy or girl. I would have thrown something together if I’d known it was so important.”

  “I didn’t want something thrown together. I wanted something special for my baby, your niece or nephew, and for all we know the first child born since the plague started. I wanted my baby brought into this world properly.”

  Mark focused on his plate; his jaw clamped shut, as if willing his forgotten catfish to offer a solution. Jimmy felt sorry for him. The last thing he needed was his sister starting trouble over something this trivial. Molly was always worked up over something. She was spoiled before the plague with instant attention to her every whim, and her expectations hadn’t changed since. But spoiled didn’t work anymore in this world.

  Molly stood up, her chair screeching across the hardwood floor. “If you wanted things done properly then maybe you should have gotten married first!” she yelled.

  The raucous roar of the dining hall stalled out with the clink of metal utensils slipping from fingers and bouncing off plates. All eyes zeroed in on Molly, and then Vanessa.

  Mark stood up in the middle of the swirling chaos with his napkin clutched in a knuckled fist. He spoke to Molly in a tight, strained voice. “I don’t want you to sit here with us anymore.”

  Molly’s eyes were gorged with sudden tears. Her lips trembled. She laid her hands on the table like she might fall if she lacked the support. “But, it’s only because…”

  “Molly, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

  Molly scanned the unsympathetic faces at the table. Then she looked around the dining hall. “Quit staring at me!” she screamed, and bolted out through the kitchen.

  Mark plopped back in his seat, spread his napkin in his lap and reached over for Vanessa’s hand.

  Vanessa’s face twisted as though somebody had kicked her in the gut. Jimmy slid his chair back. “Are you okay?”

  Her expression relaxed a bit after she puckered her lips and blew out a long stream of air like a deflating balloon. “It’s time. I think the baby’s coming.”

  Mark, Samuel and Jimmy jumped and their chairs crashed backward. Luis’s chair slammed over with him still occupying it.

  It was going to be a long night, and Scout already felt drowsy from a full day’s riding. His adrenaline burned out a while ago. Now he was running on will, and that tank was close to empty, too.

  Hunter slept, his chest rising with even breaths. At least he wasn’t snoring. All traces of his smirk dissipated after the wreck, obliterated by the pain.

  Catherine lay peacefully beside him. She exhaled and blonde strands of hair lying across her face billowed like a curtain in front of an open window.

  Scout completed wrapping Hunter’s arm in the splint with the clean shirt he’d torn into strips. He felt pretty good about setting the break, thinking he’d got it right, hopefully. Accidents and broken bones happened in the Big Bad, and Scout tried to counter them by always being prepared. In Hunter’s case, he was lucky Scout was along. Otherwise, the fool would probably be dead from a lethal combination of shock, exposure and stupidity.

  Now because of his brainless riding, Hunter had probably gone and messed up a good thing. Jimmy would be upset and worried, and he and Vanessa would blow the whole incident out of proportion forcing Hunter and Scout into the buddy system again. That’s what happened when parents died. The oldest sibling took charge.

  Unlike Hunter, Scout never complained. If it weren’t for Vanessa being strong for the both of them in those early years, he would be just another casualty. She was a trouper. They endured through so many days of no food and shelter when she made the difficult decisions that kept them both alive. Scout learned quickly to stick close to his big sister.

  But riding with Hunter again wasn’t something Scout wanted. They shared an amount of job-related camaraderie and even lived in the same house, but that didn’t mean they wanted to ride together. Sometimes, a little space was nice.

  Scout built up the fire to keep Hunter warm. Catherine stirred as light from the flames flickered across her face. She was a big mystery. Hunter had found himself a little girl surviving alone. At least that’s the story she was trying to sell, but Scout wasn’t buying. More than likely, she carried another story giving her nightmares, a story she refused to bring out into the light.

  He poked at the fire and Catherine stirred again, folding her arms together against the cool night air. Scout dusted off his hands on his pants and unhooked the sleeping bag from his motorbike. He zipped it open like a blanket and covered Catherine, who snuggled under with a contented smile.

  Then Hunter started snoring like a chainsaw ripping through a forest. Scout groaned, cringing with each thunderous inhalation, and within moments, tension throbbed between his shoulder blades. He snatched up the water bottles and scampered out of earshot.

  His eyes adjusted away from the fire, picking a path down to the stream he’d located earlier for fresh water. The shimmering stars reflected off the creek, causing a phosphorescent band that laced over the plains. Scout dipped the bottles into the flow and waited for the gurgling to cease. He retrieved the iodine from his pocket and added a couple drops into each bottle. Then he screwed the lids tightly and leaned back on his hands for a little stargazing.

  Scout couldn’t remember what the starry sky looked like before the plague. In the middle of the city, he thought there were only a couple hundred stars total because all you saw were the brightest ones. The first time he looked into the night sky after the power winked out, he saw billions of stars sparkling from every direction in the thick soup of space.

  Tonight, he thought about how lucky he was with a billion possibilities shining back at him, even if he wasn’t sure that God was up there watching his back.

  “There you are,” Catherine said behind him.

  Scout flopped on the grassy bank as if he’d just been hooked out of the stream. He sat back up after controlling the initial surprise, but he still had difficulty catching his breath.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. What’re you doing?”

  Scout pulled in a deep breath through his nose before speaking. “Just sitting here, looking at the stars. You can join me if you want.”

  She sat close beside him. It was nice. Her presence radiated a warm energy that refreshed his sleepy mind.

  He smiled at her. “Was it tough being on your own?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you, being all alone for as long as you were. I have a hard time just being out by myself for a week. Then I get back to town around people again and it’s hard adjusting to them and all the noise.”

  “I wasn’t alone, silly. My tree was with me the whole time, and there was a family of robins upstairs, and a squirrel would come by to chat. The wind brought me news from around the world and when the raindrops fell, I listened to them patter about all the neat places they had visited.” She smiled into the night sky. “The stars are really pretty, aren’t they?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Scout worried that she’d bonked her head when Hunter flipped the bike. He locked onto an eerie feeling though; maybe she wasn’t making her story up. And then he remembered she was a little kid. Of course she was making it up.

  Another question crossed his mind. “So was Hunter the first person you ever met?” Scout gave himself a mental pat on the back. She couldn’t avoid that one with a vague answer.

  The corners of her mouth dropped a
nd she brought her knees to her chest and wrapped them up in her arms. “No. I’ve known lots of people, but that was long ago in a different time and place. Those people have all passed on. I was a much different person then with a very different life.”

  Scout crinkled his brow. “Catherine, you don’t sound like a six-year-old girl.”

  “Well who said I was six? It’s not appropriate to talk about a girl’s age, you know.”

  The night breeze rolled through the prairie grass and broke upon their backs. Then the wind disappeared again, leaving behind the steady sound of the creek.

  “I guess I’m confused,” Scout said. “It’s not every day we come across someone your, uh… size out in the middle of nowhere. Were you traveling with your friends when you got separated?”

  “No, we were separated ages ago.” She stood and regarded the sky. “But I have new friends now.”

  Scout nodded and rose up beside her. He decided to put the questions away; someone in town would get her to talk and crack open the answers. “That’s right, you have us,” he said simply. “Let’s get back to the fire. I should check on Hunter, and you need more sleep.”

  She hugged him. “I love you, Scout.”

  Her affection caught him off guard. He offered her an awkward pat on the back.

  She released him without a struggle and cocked her head at an angle as though measuring him for a new winter coat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You really don’t believe anymore?”

  Scout crossed his arms, feeling exposed. “I don’t know what to believe in.”

  Catherine bent down and collected the water bottles. “I’ll just have to fix that, won’t I?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Catherine smiled. “Let’s go check on Hunter.” She skipped ahead, leaving him standing there befuddled.

  Along the way Scout gathered more sizable sticks under the branches of slumbering elm trees to feed the fire’s hunger back at camp. When he added them, the coals brightened and soon the flames popped and snapped over the new wood. Hunter hadn’t budged from the spot where he’d landed.