It’s for the best. We both know that no goodbyes mean no heartbreak.
INTERLUDES
Roger Gilmore
March 2nd, 2006.
“Now to the issue of Jacob Hunter. First, let me be clear here: this was not a single case of bad judgment.” Linda Fords looks directly at me. “No matter what others might tell you.”
The basketball court is packed. Everyone came to this week’s meeting. They want first row seats to the fate of Jacob Hunter. Some want him gone, no doubt about it, but I think most are just curious and amused by Linda going on another moral quest for what she thinks is the good of the town.
“I have here in my hands a list of all the questionable actions he did over the years. Please bear with me, I know it’s long. But that’s the point.”
My own speech stays in my pocket, carefully folded. I gaze around the rows, trying to count how many people are nodding in agreement. The Sheriff sits next to me, head slipping from his hands as he dozes off. Old Benny hated the council more than he hated working. Good thing he planned on retiring to sunny Florida in a few months.
“… Now moving onto this year alone. On January 5th, he hit the Taylor’s mailbox with his car, and did not pay for damages. On February 22nd, he walked inside Joe’s Pizzeria with a gun without the proper permit. He then refused to leave or give up said firearm. And, of course, a week ago he assaulted Paul Hamilton over a personal dispute outside Paul’s house. As you can see, Jacob Hunter has proved to be unreliable, unstable and unwilling to cooperate with authorities. This latest issue is only one in a series of sociopathic behaviors that might escalate to permanent injury or death.”
People clap and nod. Linda sits again, giving me a smile and a cross of arms. She’s daring me to do better. I’m glad to take on the challenge. As I walk to the front of the stands, Danny waves to me, with both thumbs up. Next to him, Mrs. Terrence smiles encouragingly. She helped with the speech, making sure it was proper.
Of course Jacob is nowhere to be found. I suspect Lily is hiding below the bleachers, fighting against the urge to kick Linda in her face. I clear my throat, holding the paper in my hands. I want to make sure this goes right. Lily and Jacob deserve my best shot. They need me to make this work.
“Thank you all for letting me speak here. I too want to be clear about something: I’m not here to deny Jacob’s faults. Linda listed all the things he did wrong, and I won’t pretend they didn’t happen.” I take a deep breath. “People make mistakes. Some people make more mistakes than others. But people can also forgive a whole lot for a good enough reason.”
I look at the words on the paper. I’m glad Jacob is not here after all. The next part of my speech would probably feel like a betrayal of trust.
“Jacob served his country. He fought for five years in the Pan-African War. He saved my father’s life twice and brought his body back to us when he couldn’t do it again. He returned a different person. Someone harder, with rougher edges, but that doesn’t mean we should abandon him. This is his home. He built a life in this town, and it is thanks to his sacrifices that this country won the war.” I clear my throat. “What he needs is not our rejection, but our help. Our comprehension. And for you all to kick him out of his own home is to spit on the service he gave us. I hope this town is above this. No, I know this town is better than this.”
Maybe I’m being optimistic but the claps sound louder compared to Linda’s turn. I walk back to my seat and Benny eyes me with a frown, but says nothing. He thinks the Hunters are troublemakers who make his job difficult, so I’m not surprised he’s not happy his deputy is doing speeches to keep them here. Of course, he’s too close to retirement to bother arguing with me.
Linda calls for Jacob to be expelled from town. Hands go up. I hold my breath when she announces the other option: letting him stay. I count every single hand up.
“Fine,” she says, and then hits the wooden table with her open hand. “Jacob Hunter can stay. For now.”
The meeting moves on to the incredibly vital issue of Saint Patrick’s parade not having enough green hats, and my eyes follow Lily’s form as she slips away from the shadows, making her way to the court’s back door. I get up and do the same.
Outside the air is humid and hot. Lily sits on the sidewalk, head facing the stars above us. She’s beautiful, no way around that. By moonlight, by sunlight, by candlelight, she’s always beautiful to me. She’s also angry, and not really in the mood to tolerate my staring.
“Sit down,” she orders me.
I obey her, making sure there’s a comfortable space between us. There are still many things I haven’t told her, but the little I did merited some distance.
“Nice speech.” Her voice is dry and bitter. “If they could, they would give you the star right now. And Father thought defending us would mean the end of that. Guess he was wrong. For once.”
Someone less familiar with the Hunters might think Lily is being ungrateful, but I know her better than that. While the humiliation of having the town vote on their fate bothered her, and the fact that we just won might please her, in the end it is my decision to run for Sheriff that hurts her most. For someone who hates Redwood so much, having her friend agree to protect it is a betrayal. Lily isn’t the only one either; Danny did make some jabs at my choice of profession more than once. Used to be that staying in Redwood was some sort of hell for him, but that all changed since his father’s death. Still, he occasionally shakes his head at me, but nothing like her. For once, Lily is the one not mincing words. Three days ago she called me a pansy, a dumb idiot and liberal asshat. The last one was kind of funny.
I’m not angry with her. I’m mostly sad that she can’t see past her resentment of the town and realize what I can do to make it a better place.
“Nothing needs to change, Lily.”
She fills her right hand with small stones and tosses them against the pavement. “It already did, but that’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
“You sounded mad when you called me a liberal pansy asshat.”
She smiles. Lily’s smile is like air to me sometimes. That’s dangerous, and weird. But also kind of wonderful.
“Okay, I was a little mad,” she concedes, giving me a shake of her head. “But I liked your speech, and decided to forgive you. Anyway, the pay must be good… Better than working at a McCarthy's factory at least. I get why you want to do it.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
She sighs and plays with the last rock before throwing it into the distance. “Besides, it fits you. Everyone likes you. They trust you. It makes sense.”
“I don’t know about that, I just think… Well, with Benny retiring… Hector and Billy aren’t really interested in the position, so they might end up sending someone from out of town. And that just doesn’t feel right to me.”
Lily nods. We let silence rein for a few minutes. Our hands are so close… If I had the guts, I would move mine into hers and let that explain everything I can’t with words.
“Do you want to…?” She clears her throat and avoids my eyes. “I mean, there’s a game tomorrow. Wanna watch it with some pizza? Father’s buying. You know… To thank you for risking your neck for us.”
I place a hand on the back of my neck, feeling it hot with embarrassment. For a second there I thought she was asking me out on a date. Lily never hesitated to ask me to watch a game with her before.
“Yeah… Sure.”
She’s up fast, hands passing over her worn jeans and then going inside its pockets. She stands with her back to me, feet shuffling. Is she… Why is she so nervous?
“Good. So, there’s that. I guess. See you tomorrow. For pizza.”
Like a fox caught in the chicken’s den, she runs away from me. I sit in the same spot, blinking stupidly. A smile forms on my lips against my better judgment.
She was asking me on a date, wasn’t she? I think she was.
“Roger.”
Jacob’s voice jolts me to reality
. I get up as quickly as I can, dusting off my pants and with both hands on my back. He comes out of the shadows, rifle over his shoulders like he’s back from a hunting trip, but I know he’s not. Probably spent his afternoon target practicing on pig carcasses to vent his frustration.
“Hey, Jacob.” My voice is weak, and my embarrassment pumps my heart loudly in my ears. He heard us talking, no doubt about it. “Good to see you… Did you hear the…”
“Yeah, I heard the speech. Seems like everyone is feeling extra charitable tonight.” He frowns at me. Is he disappointed Lily isn’t mad at me anymore? “Doesn’t change a thing. I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
“I know, but this smoothes thing over with everyone. And it proves the people of this town aren’t against you like you thought they were. You need to give them a chance now.”
Jacob approaches me and I take a step back. “I don’t need to do anything. But I appreciate what you did, Roger.”
I nod. “Just trying to help. After all you taught me, it’s nothing.”
Lily’s father turns his head to the street she just crossed. “Seems you are well on track to be Sheriff now. Happy about that?”
“I am, sir.”
He nods and smiles. “Good. You’re going to do a great job.”
His approval takes me by surprise. More than that, it makes difficult for me to speak, clogging my throat with a strange sensation I’m not sure how to describe it. This is the man that practically raised me, as much as one can raise an orphan by teaching him how to point and shoot a gun.
“Lily is going to community college, you know that, right? A year late, because she’s stubborn, but she did it. Got her letter and all that.”
“Yes, I heard.” Whatever was clogging my throat before, it isn’t pride anymore. The other shoe is about to drop, soon. “She told me.”
Jacob narrows his eyes, perhaps thinking I’m being too forward by implying I know his daughter just as well as he does. If he’s thinking that, then he’s right, because I was.
“Anyway, I’m sure you know what that means.” He stares at me for a bit. I say nothing and wait, aware he’s trying to bait me into being even more disrespectful. I know his tactics after years of it. “She’s has a future now. One far away from this shitty town. And you… You decided to stay in this shitty town for the rest of your life. You can see where I am going with this, can’t you?”
I gulp. There it is. The shoe just dropped in a hole so deep, I’m never going to see it again in this lifetime. Finally, I nod. “Yes, sir. I do.”
He places a hand on my shoulder for a long time, then smiles. “Good talking to you, Roger. See you tomorrow… For pizza.”
Amelia Patterson
November 24th, Tuesday, 3 am
With trembling fingers, I try to load my rifle. Used to be I could do that with my eyes closed, now I barely manage to hold the thing still. The TV went dead. The power will probably be next. A crazy disease spreading, riots going on, people running away, the military taking control over everything and I can’t load my rifle. PTSD is a bitch.
Finally the round goes in and I let out a long sigh. That’s more like it. Anyone tries to get in, they will only get a bullet for their trouble. I don’t have a lot of ammo, but I can take some of them out before they get me.
I check the window with my free hand, pulling the curtain just enough to see the situation outside. Two houses down the block, I spot Erika Tanaka carrying her husband over her shoulder. He looks half-dead, leg bleeding on their front yard. No sign of the kid. The woman looks over in my direction and I quickly close the curtain again. Can’t risk her asking me to take care of her daughter.
Apparently liking gardening, being alone, retired and past fifty makes me a good candidate to take care of children and pets. Goddamn neighbors.
Erika turns her car on, its headlights shinning between my curtains. She runs past my house burning tires and leaving a trail of smoke behind. She left her daughter alone. Probably thinks there’s a chance of getting the husband fixed in the clinic.
They are not coming back.
Police cars rush in and out of earshot. Gunshots. Screams. There’s a faint smell of burning wood and rubber. Finally, the lights turn off with the thunderous sound of a power line exploding somewhere not too far.
I wait.
There isn’t much else to do but wait. Nowhere to go. Nobody to see. This house is all I got. The house and my cats.
The cats are gone. Every late afternoon they get out, roam the neighborhood, getting inside other people houses and catching birds. Usually they come back at dinner time. Not this time.
Beretta and Colt are not coming back.
So I’m alone, but not for long. I watch from my window as a group five people march on the street, carrying bags and wearing masks. They split into smaller groups: two men enter the Tanaka’s house. The other three try to break in the house next to mine.
They kick the front door open, but there’s no time to enter: someone comes out running. He grabs one of the looters and bites the man’s neck. It takes the other two looters to grab the crazy man off their companion. And then another woman jumps out of the house, and attacks them again. They scream and try to fight the couple off, but nothing seems to stop them. Not golf clubs, not baseball bats, not knifes. The only solution is a shot in the head. Or so the TV said.
When the fight gets too close to my yard, I open the window to align a shot. I hit a looter first, then the crazy woman biting his neck. Another looter goes down. I finish off my crazy neighbor. The remaining guy retreats before I can shoot him, looking for shelter in Tanaka’s house.
For a while, nobody shows up. I keep watch, but after an hour passes, I realize the remaining looters probably sneaked out the back. Below, my flowers and lawn are ruined by the scattered bodies.
I don’t look straight at them, because my hands need to be firm and still. I pop a pill, just to make sure my head will stay clear.
The pills do their job a little too well and end up I dozing off. Noise coming from the Takana house wakes me up. Their girl is running away from a man. They are too far for my shaking aim, so I open the window again and get out, supporting my feet on the tiled roof. Two bullets left.
I miss the head and tell her to run. Instead, she stops and looks at me, breathing heavily. I don’t know why I decided to help her, but now is too late to regret it. She starts to climb the tree near my house.
“What in the blazes are you doing, girl?”
“You have a gun. I’m staying with you.”
She jumps and lands on the roof, barely managing to stand on it. I help her, impressed. I thought she was a quiet mouse. Maybe she’s more like a cat.
I tell her about the disease, but she stares at the man who was chasing her. He’s on my lawn, looking at us with a smile. I could shoot him, but I’m pretty sure he can’t open my door now that he’s sick.
She starts to cry. Choking and sobbing, hands on her face. I stare at her for a few seconds, confused. Did I scare her?
This is not good. I’m not nanny material, not with my bad leg and low ammo. I can’t take care of this soft little mouse, crying over nothing. She’s going to die. Worse, I’m probably going to die for her.
With a sigh I let her rest against my chest and pat her head awkwardly. Goddamn neighbors.
PREVIEW FOR ACT II
The Doctor VI
December 24th, Thursday, 3 pm
Each time the needle goes in, I wince and clutch the bedsheet. Tigh works in silence, closing my wound with careful, calculated movements. I don’t know why he tries to shelter me from pain. I deserve it.
I deserve to suffer. I'm a failure of the highest order. Careless, stupid and responsible for six deaths. Seven, if I dare to count little Victoria. I did not bite her; I did not shoot her, but I couldn’t save her. She was my responsibility, and I failed on every possible level.
That and my vaccine… Tom. I close my eyes. I won’t cry in front of Tigh. I won
’t look for pity.
The Sergeant closes the stitches, biting off the end of the thread. We don’t talk. There’s nothing left to argue about. Despite my injury, I help them carry the bodies out. We burn them on the grass field around the bunker. Charlie takes off in the helicopter during the following night. Tigh and I run at the sound of the engine powering up, but do nothing to stop him. Instead, we get back inside and pretend nothing happened.
Days pass. I’m not sure how many. It’s hard to know without Tom knocks’ on my door, calling me to eat stale bread early in the morning; without his smile at my lack of enthusiasm over getting up at four o’clock in the morning.
Empty beds match empty chairs in the mess hall. One of Tom’s mousetraps lays on a corner. The metal corridors aren’t only empty; they are suffocating. I need air.
Snow covers the grass for the first time this year. The scenery around the bunker entrance is deceitfully quiet. I can only imagine what horrors are happening right now, somewhere. The sky is gray and the air I needed so much is cold and dry. I like the way it stings my cheeks.
“Cold enough for you?”
Tigh’s voice jolts me from head to toe. He stands right next to me, arms crossed, hair and shoulders wet and white with snow. How long has he been outside?
“How’s the wound?” He indicates it with a nod.
I stare at the field, blinking sluggishly. Why is he talking to me?
“You should eat something.”
My head shifts sharply to him. “Please leave me alone.”
“We need to talk, Doc.”
The Girl in the Forest V
December 15th, Tuesday, 3 pm
After the supermarket and the robbers, there isn’t much left of our supplies. I try to save every little piece of food and every drop of water, but Peter eats too much and spills way too much water on his face. He doesn't wake up when I tell him to and gets tired every few hours. The slow pace annoys me. Every time we camp I keep watch and the constant vigilance makes me stressed. It’s not that I don’t trust Peter, it’s that I don’t trust him with my life or even his own. He’s too sloppy, too nice.
Those Who Remain Page 22
