The Last Tribe

by Brad Manuel

  “That sly dog.” Matt mumbled. “Good for him.” Matt saw the group moving from the fire pit into the house.

  “Karen wants to go to sleep. We’re moving the party inside.” Greg told him. “Stay up a while.”

  “Did you see Dad? He and Solange are a ‘thing’ now.” Matt replied.

  Karen collapsed, fully dressed, on the queen bed in the RV. She tried to listen as the boys walked away, but she was too tired, and they walked too fast. She looked up at the stars through her little skylight, and thanked whatever brought her into her current situation. Her eyes fluttered, and she fell asleep instantly, barely pulling a comforter over herself to keep warm.

  47

  Karen woke up to voices outside her window. She was disoriented and looked around to find her bearings. She was in a large bed in a cold room. Her side and stomach ached. “I’m in an RV in New Hampshire.” She said to herself. “Okay, it wasn’t a dream, I’m really here.” She often dreamt about escaping the house in Boston for a safe home away from Ryan.

  She looked under the comforter and saw she was still fully dressed. She decided to change into sweats, ones she brought up from Boston in a duffel in the other room. She changed and went outside to see who the voices were coming from.

  Todd and Ahmed were talking about bread, sports, and other meaningless things. “I hope we didn’t wake you. I didn’t know there was anyone in the RV.” Ahmed apologized.

  “That’s okay.” Karen paused, she was horrible with names.

  “Ahmed, and this is Todd. I lobbied for name tags at one point, shirts with name badges sewn into them, but no one went for it.” Ahmed took a sip of coffee.

  “Where did you get that.” Karen needed her coffee. “I so want that.” She was forward, and funny. She fit into the group immediately.

  “You need to walk up this street to the end. Take a right, second house is a white cottage, smoke coming out of the top, walk in, take off your shoes, put them in the bin, you’ll be rewarded with coffee. Don’t take off your shoes? Rebecca will throw you out. Drink all the coffee? Todd’s wife will throw you out.”

  Todd laughed at Ahmed’s directions.

  “Rebecca is the girl, right? The teen? She’s in charge?” Karen asked, confused.

  “More than you know.” Todd smiled at her, sipping his own coffee. “It’s her house, kick the shoes into the bin.”

  Karen thanked both of them for the advice, and walked up to the cottage. The road was clear of snow, but wet from streams of thaw running down in all directions. She could see her breath as it blew into the morning air. She looked at the houses to her left, pale gray smoke puffed out of chimneys in the first four homes. Karen stopped at the top of the road, turned right, and walked to a sign that read Webster Cottage. She knocked meekly before opening the door. “Hello?” she asked.

  “Come on in.” Melanie called from the living room. “Shoes in the bin, coffee and eggs in the back. I’m Melanie, we met last night.”

  “Hello again, Melanie. “ She nodded, “Karen. There really are eggs? OMG!” Karen put her shoes in an overflowing bin.

  Melanie was surrounded. She had three kids on the couch with her, one still asleep holding a blanket, and two playing checkers. There were two older girls on the opposite couch reading. All of the kids looked up and said hello and waved. Karen remembered none of their names. She waved back with a broad smile. A fire burned in the fireplace. The chill Karen felt since she woke disappeared.

  She walked through the living room and into a dining room area. There was a fire in a fireplace here too, and more young people sitting at a table. John and Solange were there, and they both said good morning. “Look who finally got up. You Boston people know how to sleep. You’re the first one up of the two of you.”

  Karen spoke to them for a second, said good morning to the people around the table, a Tony, Greg, Matt, Rebecca, and Craig. “I wish I was better with names.” Karen thought to herself. She pushed through the dining room and into the kitchen. It was also full of activity. The older woman Karen met briefly the night before was scrambling eggs in a giant cast iron skillet on a woodstove. There were two coffee makers working off of a solar panel charged electric hub. A tall older man, again, someone who Karen met the night before, was slicing bread for toast.

  “Good morning Karen!” The older woman smiled. “You’re just in time for some fresh eggs. Peter has a batch of toast in the woodstove. Grab a plate from the stack, come on over. Coffee cups are on the counter, milk and sugar are on the table. Don’t miss the sausage patties.” She pointed a large spatula towards a plate of cooked sausage.

  There were people sitting at a table, John’s brothers, Paul and Hank. “Yes!” Karen said to herself as she recalled their names. They had three very young children on a bench at the table with them, two girls and a boy. Karen assembled her breakfast and asked if she could join them.

  “Of course,” Hank told her. “We are explaining the weather to the kids, how snow is just cold rain. That sort of stuff.”

  Talking to kids was right up Karen’s alley. “Why are you asking, honey?” She did not use the little girl’s name. Karen depended on charts hooked to the foot of a bed for names.

  “Rebecca said there might be some snow next week, that it was going to get cold again.” The little boy who responded was sitting between two girls. Karen guessed he was between 4 and 5 years old, possible a very big 3.

  “It’s pretty late for snow, but it could happen.” Karen said, nodding to the children.

  Paul jumped in, “if Rebecca and Greg could live by themselves for the whole winter, we don’t have to worry about some spring storm. You know what we call that? Snow day!”

  The kids giggled. Karen noticed how thin they were.

  “Peanut butter toast is coming up kids.” Peter walked over with a plate of toast slathered in peanut butter. “Anyone need refills on milk?” There were headshakes of ‘no’ as each kid grabbed the toast.

  The morning reminded Karen of her family reunions. The house was full of life, crowded with teens, pre-schoolers, and adults. She felt safe and happy for the first time in almost a year.

  The kids finished their breakfast, said thank you to Jamie and Peter (Karen caught their names finally) and ran out. Karen turned to Paul. “Is this what mornings are like?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” He said back.

  “Well, like, everyone eating together, and talking and working nicely. Everyone gets along so well.”

  “Yeah, it’s been like this for a while. You have to realize, we’ve only been together for two or three weeks, but it seems to be working. Why?”

  “We weren’t like this in Boston.” She did not say anything else.

  Paul heard the story of Lucinda’s suicide and Ryan’s departure. It was a bad situation in Boston.

  “Well, so far, that’s how it is here. We have a task board, essential things that need to get done, along with a list of ‘if you have time’ things, longer term projects. It’s up in the dining room. If there is anything that strikes your fancy, have at it. It’s your first day, we’ll let it slide if you don’t milk the goats. Besides, that’s already done.” Paul gave her a pat on the back, and slid his chair away from the table. “Yep, you gotta get up early to milk the goats.” He used his best farmer accent for the word ‘goats.’ “I’m heading over to the dairy farm to check on the cows and pigs with Kelly, the veterinarian, you are welcome to join us, or again, take a day to rest and get used to the area.”

  “You seem to enjoy children.” Hank said from behind his mug of coffee. “Emily and Melanie use the town library for school, teaching the kids how to read and write. They love guest lecturers or permanent helpers. Melanie is switching to farm duty when the season changes.”

  Karen nodded at him.

  “Do you think that other guy you lived with will show up?” Hank asked, curious for her perspective.

  “No.” Karen said quietly. “No, I don’t, and I hope he stays away
. He was mean, a rotten person, and while Dan told me we needed Ryan to survive, well, that’s not true now. Even if he could help us, he’s not worth the price.”

  “I agree.” Hank let the topic die. He was there when Dan told the true story of their last hours at the Boston apartment. It was different than the one Karen wanted known.

  “After John and Solange left it got ugly.” Dan told the group in the living room when Karen had gone to bed. “I told them a lie this afternoon, when they came back, because Karen asked me to, but here is what happened. I went upstairs and Ryan has Karen up against a wall. He was yelling at her, screaming in her face.” He took a sip of wine as he told the story. “When we first got together back in October, well, Ryan and I were talking about our survival strategy. Karen cut in on us, said something against Ryan. He slapped her across the face and told her to shut up.”

  Rebecca put her hand over her mouth and gasped.

  “Is it okay if I tell this in front of her?” Dan looked to the adults.

  “I’m okay, just stunned.” Rebecca told him.

  Hank and Paul nodded, giving the okay to continue.

  “I was stunned too, and without hesitation I popped him one in the stomach. I don’t punch people in the face, because I don’t punch people, but also because it’s a good way to break or injure my hand, and I was so used to taking care of my hands.” Dan could tell he was getting off track. “Anyway, I punched him so hard he went to the ground. I didn’t hold back. You don’t slap anyone, but you definitely don’t slap a woman for speaking. I picked him up. I could tell he was hurt, really hurt and it was killing him to stand up straight, but I held that bastard up and looked him in the eyes and said ‘if you touch her again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand? I won’t kill you quickly, I’ll beat you and leave you out in the cold to die like you deserve.’”

  Dan shook his head. “I’m not a bully or even a violent person, but I could tell this Ryan was a piece of work. I kept him in line for the rest of the time. He still called Karen a fat bitch, or told her to shut up, and I’d ask him to stop, but really, what was I supposed to do? I needed him to survive, Karen needed him to survive. We were in hell. We’re stuck with a total asshole who hates women, and our fourth group member is insane, literally mentally insane. Lucinda did not sleep at night. She’d wake me up thinking she’d heard something. She never left the apartment.” He paused. “I debated leaving every single day. I wasn’t living anymore, I was cobbling together a horrible existence, survival, but not life.” He paused for another sip of wine.

  “Back to yesterday, John and Solange leave, I come up stairs, Ryan’s screaming at Karen, right in her face, calling her a traitor, bitch, ingrate, whatever. I pull him back, tell him to calm down. Lucinda is crying, screaming for us to stop. I get the situation under control, Lucy stays in the kitchen, like she always did. I’m on a couch with Karen. Ryan is in a chair. He doesn’t want to go, doesn’t trust Solange and John. I tell him I’m leaving, Karen agrees. Lucinda starts ranting about inviting John and Solange to live with us. She’s telling us she won’t go back to the cruise ship where all the people are dead, something so bizarre. How we can all stay here in Boston, how none of us will get sick if we just stay in Boston, I don’t know, it didn’t make any sense.”

  “Ryan is seething. All of a sudden he looks at Karen and says ‘the next time we are alone, I’m going to kill you. You better pray Dan stays with you forever, cause I’m going to wring your fat neck.’ I mean, seriously, he is looking right at her. Karen is one of the sweetest people, she was a pediatric nurse, who hates a pediatric nurse? I was floored. What the hell is wrong with this guy? Karen is done, she knew she was out, so she stood up and walked over to him, looked him square in the eye and said, ‘I hope you try.’ He kicked her right in the stomach. He was wearing socks. If he had boots on, Karen would be dead.” He paused, everyone stared at him.

  “I pointed my finger and told him to go. I told him to pack his things and get as far away from us as possible, to take one of the cars and leave. As I am talking, I feel a breeze from the balcony door being opened. I see Lucy walking towards the railing. She hadn’t gone out there, ever. I knew this wasn’t good. Karen was coughing on the floor. Ryan is looking at me like he is going to kill me. I jump up and run towards Lucy. She is at the rail of the balcony. She looks at me, and in the most even and rational voice I’ve ever heard her use she says,”

  “Dan, thank you, but I’m done.”

  “She dove over the railing, kept her arms at her side, and she was gone. I was standing at the edge looking at her when I hear the door slam behind me. Ryan locked me out on the porch. He kicked Karen a few more times in the stomach and side until she passes out, and he leaves. Karen didn’t wake up for a while. She crawled over and let me into the house. Thirty minutes later, when some of the pain pills kick in and Karen is able to stand, I radioed Solange.”

  Hank thought of the story as he watched Karen eat her breakfast. He thought about how excited she must feel to be out of that house in Boston, away from some random abuser with whom she had the misfortune of surviving a global plague.

  Karen sat at the table, forking eggs and sausage into her mouth. She smiled. Smiling was part of her training. No matter what is happening, good news or bad news to the patient, painful procedure or taking a temperature, grin and put on a good face.

  Tears welled in her eyes. The warm liquid dripped down her face on to her plate. She was finally safe. She was free of Ryan. There were good people around her, and there was a life ahead of her.

  Hank drank his coffee and let her have the moment. He saw the tears. He leaned towards her and whispered. “This is real. We’re real. You’re safe. Enjoy it.”

  Karen put her hands to her mouth. She moved them to cover her eyes and wept. She laughed while she cried. Her tears were of joy and salvation.

  “I guess she liked the eggs.” Peter said to Jamie. Hank heard the comment, and laughed.

  John popped through the door to see what was so funny. “What’s going on in here?”

  “It has been a while since Karen enjoyed eggs and sausage. She’s a little emotional about it.” Jamie told him.

  “And she’s realizing she doesn’t have to live with an abusive asshole anymore.” Hank added.

  Karen was too overwhelmed to speak. She laughed and cried, waving to John. She mouthed “thank you” to him.

  “Well, as long as I’m here, I’ll take some more eggs. I think everyone is up that is going to get up.” John let Jamie spoon more eggs on his plate. He forked two more sausage patties and took more toast.

  Peter filled his cup with coffee and followed John back into the dining room. The kids had left to go on a firewood run, allowing Peter to join John and Solange at the table.

  “You two went to bed so early, I didn’t get a chance to hear the rundown of the airport. You found three fuel trucks? Two planes? That’s the story?”

  “We did.” Solange confirmed. “The runway is clear.”

  “I will go down to take a look. If we get fuel in and the engines turn over, well, I bet we can extend our time here as long as we want, within reason of course.” The old pilot sipped his coffee.

  “I need a day before I go back down there.” John told him. “I’m tired and sore.” The eggs were fantastic, and he offered Solange some of his seconds. She shook her head. “One thing,” John told him. “It’s a mess at the airport. The parking garage was converted into a military barracks. There are tents full of bodies. There are scavenging birds and animals, it smells like rotting flesh. If Solange and I are not in the group, know that you want to avoid the front of the airport. Go straight to the planes and fuel trucks.”

  Peter nodded. He had seen some things in his life, he was not squeamish, but there was no need to invite those images into his memory.

  “I’d take Tony. That kid knows how to jump start vehicles, and I bet you’re going to have to jump the battery on that plane.” John talked through his toast.
“You are also going to have to figure out how to get into that monster.”

  “I know how to do that, don’t worry. You found the plane and the fuel, the rest is up to me.” Peter thought about the jumpstart. “You just leave the rest up to me.” He leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet straight out in front of him. He was thinking about cows, pigs, goats, chickens, supplies, and most importantly, people. “I think I can give Antonio some flying lessons over the next few weeks, make him a pretty serviceable co-pilot.”

  A wry smile crept across Peter’s face as a plan formed in his head.

  48

  Dan woke late. He rolled over and looked at his watch, placed neatly on his nightstand the night before.

  10 a.m.

  The fire he lit the night before was out long ago. His room was cold. He was warm under the covers of his bed, his knit cap securely on his head.

  He faced two problems. He was hungry, and he had to go to the bathroom.

  He ran to the bathroom outside of his room, and bolted back to his bed.

  “One out of two isn’t bad.” He thought to himself.

  Dan pulled a pillow over his head, rolled away from the bright sun streaming through the window, and went back to sleep.

  49

  The chores posted on the daily calendar in the dining room were done. The firewood truck was filled and parked on Choate Road. The goats were milked and fed. The chickens were fed and the eggs collected. Bread was baked and cooling. Water was boiled for drinking, and the tanks of the RV’s were filled for showering. There was no fishing, hunting, or trapping expedition for the day, as there was lobster and moose for both meals. The kids were at the library until 12:30, free to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.