“Naw, I’m talking about food. Supplies. Things we need to live.”
“How long we gonna be here?” Darryl asked, breaking off his musing about the beer situation.
“Maybe a long time.” Bobo said.
Darryl laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Bobo, you totally tripping.”
“It ain’t tripping if I right.”
“Man . . . okay, look.” Darryl took a last pull on what was left of his cigarette and dropped it into the ash can. “You a Dog, a good Dog. I respect you, all the way. And not just for what you done.” he added, gesturing around at the property. “For who you are. But, I mean, we here. More coming. What you saying we ought to do tonight, tomorrow; start knocking over stores and putting up a wall or something?”
Bobo said nothing, just gazed steadily at him. Darryl read the look, and shook his head. “Man, that what you thinking we ought to do, ain’t it.”
“DJ, you need to listen.”
Darryl shook his head again, standing up this time. “Bobo, I’ll help keep the peace this weekend. No problem, I do that most of the time anyway. I’ll even help keep an eye out for any strangers or whoever that might wander on up. But you need to chill the fuck out. Have a beer. Hell, have several.”
Bobo scowled. “Okay, fine. Let’s just kick back and watch the world end.”
“World ain’t gonna end bro.” Darryl said. “Everything fine. Just one more thing that gonna keep the news busy for a few days, then everything back to normal. Just chill.”
* * * * *
Jessica
Jessica started slightly when the doorbell rang, having lost herself in a kind of fugue state as she stroked Candice’s hair and watched the increasingly troubling news that was coming across the television screen. Candice, however, sat bolt upright in a rush so quick it caused Jessica’s slight startle to continue into a full upper body quiver of alarm.
“What’s that?” her daughter asked.
Jessica shook herself free of the surge of emotion and produced a smile she didn’t feel. “The door, it’s probably grandma and grandpa.”
“Oh.” Candice said, leaning back against the cushions with a look that said she wasn’t entirely reassured.
Jessica remembered the television, and quickly hit the button that turned it off. Standing up for the first time in hours, she put the remote on the side table and went into the entry hallway. Peering through the peephole lens in the door, she saw her mother standing on the step, rummaging in her purse as she waited.
Jessica unlocked the deadbolt and knob locks, and opened the door feeling an enormous wave of relief. “Mom.” she said.
Sharon Patterson looked at her daughter for a long moment, then stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. It was all Jessica could do to not start crying as her mother’s arms enfolded her, and she put her face into the older woman’s shoulder.
Part of her still felt ashamed for needing the help, for needing the comfort, but she still felt dazed and numb after the day’s events. There were things she felt that perhaps needed doing, things she should be saying to Candice or doing for her, but she couldn’t seem to focus her thoughts long enough to catch them in her mental net before they slipped away.
“There, there.” Sharon said, patting Jessica on the back. “Don’t fall apart on me now, it’ll be better soon.”
“I’m so glad you and dad are here.” Jessica said with a thick throat, her voice slightly muffled. She cast her eyes up without taking her head off her mother’s shoulder and saw her dad straightening from the back of the truck with a double handful of plastic grocery bags.
“Well, we would have been here sooner but the roads are a mess. And the grocery store! It’s like there’s snow forecast for tonight.” Sharon told her, still rubbing Jessica’s back. “How’s Candice doing?”
“Better, I think.” Jessica replied. “A little skittish, but I guess that’s not unusual considering.”
“Hmm.” Sharon pushed Jessica back and gave her a look that was stern in expression, but touched with compassion and a bit of humor around the eyes. “Okay then, buck up. We’ll get things sorted out. Why don’t you help your father with the rest of the groceries, and I’ll go say hi to Candice, okay?”
“Okay.” Jessica said, dabbing at her eyes with her fingers, which a little moist, but her cheeks were still dry. That was something, she supposed.
Sharon gave her a nod, and went past her into the house. Jessica walked down the front path to the driveway as William Patterson stood watching her. “Hey there kiddo.” he said when she was almost to the driveway.
“Hey dad.” Jessica said, a little softly, but her tone and voice were even. “Thanks for coming down.”
“Aw, it weren’t a problem.” Her father shrugged. “Getting all this into the house, now that might be a something of a chore though.”
Jessica peered into the back of the truck and blinked in surprise. There were at least twenty bags resting in the truck bed under the camper top, maybe even thirty. “Wow. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing’s too good for my little girl.” her father said with a smile, but she saw the serious look in his eyes. “And I have a feeling we might be staying longer than we usually do.”
Jessica thought about the news she’d been silently watching all afternoon, about what Steve had told her at the high school, then nodded. “I suppose so.”
“Come on, grab something. The quicker this gets inside, the less likely your mother is to get on to me for being lazy.”
Obediently, Jessica started hooking her hands through the loops on the plastic bags, as her father started for the front door. She loaded herself with what she could manage and followed with bags dangling from each hand.
As she stepped inside, she heard Candice giggling, and a surge of joy ripped through her at the sound. When she came around the corner of the entry hall, she saw Sharon sitting on the sofa with Candice draped across her lap, tickling the little girl in the stomach as she made silly noises.
“Okay, time to get up.” Sharon said after one final tickle, as Jessica went past with a smile. “You want to help me cook dinner?”
“What are we having?” Candice demanded as she sat up and pushed hair out of her face.
“You can help me decide if you want.” Sharon said with a chuckle. “But I already picked something out for dessert.”
“Cookies?” Candice said at once.
“Maybe.” Sharon teased.
“Aww…”
“None of that. Let’s go, into the kitchen and you’ll see.” Sharon pushed the ten-year-old to her feet, then stood herself and shooed Candice into the kitchen ahead of her. Jessica stepped around them both, heading back outside for another load.
It took Jessica two more trips, and her father one big one, but they emptied the truck onto the counters and island in the kitchen. By the time Jessica came in with her second load, her mother already had the pantry, half the cabinets, and the fridge and freezer doors standing open as she busily tucked the groceries away. Candice was helping, fetching items out of bags and bringing them over to her grandmother, who was directing with occasional requests for various things she spotted in the bags.
When Jessica made to start helping, Sharon waved her off and continued the unpacking. Her father put a pair of bags, luggage, down at the end of the sofa, then sat down and immediately turned on the television. Jessica looked quickly at Candice, then back in the living room, when she heard the entertainment center coming back to life.
But her dad was already adjusting the volume so it was only audible as the barest buzz of voices in the kitchen, and Jessica subsided as she leaned on the doorway and watched her daughter slowly returning to a semblance of normality.
In a few minutes, her mother had seemingly magically transported the mass of groceries out of the bags, which Candice wadded up into a large ball before stuffing in to the second garbage can Jessica kept by the garage door for recyclables. The decision of what her daughter wan
ted for dinner seemed to have been settled as well, because there were a pair of large gourmet frozen pizzas left out, along with a bag of frozen French fries.
“Alright you.” Sharon said to Candice once everything was put away. “Wash your hands, then get out two pizza pans and a baking sheet for the fries.” Stepping to the corner of the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, she raised her voice slightly. “Bill, turn that off and come in here. Help your granddaughter get all this into the oven without burning the house down.”
Jessica looked a question at her mother, but was quickly and silently shushed as her father agreeably turned the television back off and came into the kitchen. Sharon addressed herself to Candice again, who was standing at the sink trying to reach the soap on the back counter.
“Now while you and grandpa get dinner started, your mother and I are going to make sure the guest bedroom is made up.” Sharon went back over to the sink and handed Candice the dispenser of soft soap, then gave her a little poke in the ribs that elicited a giggling squirm.
Turning around, Sharon made a little ushering motion at her daughter. Jessica led the way through the living room, up the stairs, and to the hallway linen closet. By the time she entered the spare bedroom with a set of fresh sheets in her arms, her mother was there, sitting on the bed. When Jessica appeared, Sharon had a serious look on her face.
“Shut the door Jessica.”
“What?” Jessica asked, stopping in confusion.
“Shut the door, put all that down, and come sit with me a minute.” her mother said.
Slowly, feeling like she’d done something wrong, Jessica closed the door and came over to the bed. She dropped the sheets across the quilt and sat down next to Sharon.
“Now, tell me.” Sharon said. “Tell me what happened to Joey and Sandra.”
Jessica felt a sinking sensation in her gut, and she involuntarily shuddered as the fresh memories snapped back to the forefront of her mind. “I went to the schools when the radio said there was a problem.” she began haltingly. “Candice was at the elementary school, and she was fine. But a lot of other people, most of them kids, weren’t. Mom, there were things happening there, being done by children, kindergartners, that were ….”
Sharon reached and grasped Jessica’s hands, giving them a squeeze. “Go on.”
Jessica shuddered. “I took Candice, and we went down the street to the high school. When I got there, it was chaos. Firemen, paramedics, police; everywhere. People were hurt, screaming, all in the parking lot. I found Joey’s girlfriend, and she said she’d seen Joey inside when everything . . . started. She said he’d bit her, that he didn’t know who she was.” She could feel her voice starting to crack as she related the story.
“And then?” Sharon prompted, squeezing her hands again.
Jessica drew a deep breath. “And then, there was shooting. It was coming from the entrance to the school. I ran over . . . mom, they were shooting students. Police, shooting at them, as they came out of the school. They never cried, they never seemed to even notice they were being shot. They just f-fell over, kept crawling forward.”
“There’s more.” Sharon said quietly.
Nodding reluctantly, Jessica took another breath. “Candice was with me. I wasn’t letting her out of my sight, out of my grasp, not with everything that was happening.”
“That was the right thing to do.” Sharon said firmly, though there was a sad look on her face.
“Mom, she saw the shooting. It terrified her.” Jessica said, half in protest, half in shame.
“It was better than what could have happened if you’d not found her, or if you’d left her somewhere.” Sharon said.
“I keep trying to tell myself that.” Jessica said quietly. “But then I saw her.”
“Who?”
Jessica couldn’t help it. The tears started flowing, rolling down her cheeks in hot, fat drops. “S-s-s-sandra.” she blubbered, feeling like she was back in Dalton, in her old bedroom, pouring her heart out to her mother over some boy she liked who hadn’t asked her out to the dance.
“Sandra . . .” her mother prompted encouragingly.
“She was in the school, coming out.” Jessica got out between sobs. “She didn’t recognize me mom. She was like the others, sick, and she didn’t recognize me.”
Suddenly Sharon’s arms were around her, hugging her tightly. Jessica buried her face in her mother’s neck, her breath coming in choking heaves as the dam she’d walled everything up behind started cracking. As the tears fell and the sorrow spilled out, she clung to Sharon and let the words tumble forth.
“They s-s-shot her.” Jessica managed. “They shot her, and then Joey too when he came out a minute later. They shot them both, then handcuffed them like all the others. They wouldn’t let me near them. They made me get away from the doors. They made me leave. Said they were going to put them with all the other s-s-sick people. Until they figure out w-w-what to d-d-do.”
Sharon was crying too, Jessica could feel it, but her mother’s voice was strong as she spoke quietly. “Sweetheart, it’s a terrible thing. A horrible thing. Just about everything that’s going on today is. But you did the best you could.”
“No, I failed them.” Jessica wailed, barely able to keep herself from shouting or screaming the words with the final, barest shred of her self control. “They needed me and I just s-s-stood there. I don’t know where they are, and I can’t help them.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Sharon said soothingly, rubbing her daughter’s back “You came as soon as you found out. You got Candice, you kept her safe. Joey and Sandra will have to wait for the doctors to tend to them.”
“They don’t even know w-what’s w-w-wrong w-with them.” Jessica said, and that was the last straw, the final piece of whatever had been obstructing, blocking, her already runaway emotions. She cried onto her mother’s shoulder, just let the anguish and pain out as she clung to her mother and cried.
It hurt so much, so very much, and she couldn’t think of a thing she could do to make it better. All she knew was keeping it inside wasn’t helping. So she took her fingers out of the cracks in the dam and rode the torrent of tears as her frustration and shame and sadness unleashed.
Eventually the flow started tapering off, as the pool of sorrow finally began to empty. She could feel Sharon rocking her, hugging her. It felt reassuring, it made her feel safe. She became aware of her mother murmuring words, talking softly to her.
“There, there. Let it out. That’s right. Mommy’s here sweetie.”
Jessica could feel the enormous wet spot her tears had made on Sharon’s blouse, and giggled abruptly, almost hysterically.
“Feeling better?” Sharon asked softly.
“I think I ruined your shirt.” Jessica said as her humor subsided, but she did feel better. She’d emptied all the things she’d locked away inside her, all the feelings and emotions she’d had to keep at least somewhat under control for Candice’s sake all afternoon. Now that she’d done that, she still felt sad, still had a vague sense of discontented shame and failure at being unable to protect her family, but now there was room for the tiny stirrings of pride and hope. Her mother was right, she’d gotten Candice out, and kept her safe. That was something.
“Oh pshaw.” Sharon said. “It’s just a shirt. You’re my Jessica.”
“I’m really glad you’re here.” Jessica said as she sat back and wiped at her face.
“That’s what family’s for. We love and help each other when the world’s too busy to care.” Sharon said. Her face was wet too, but the light in her eyes was bright as she smiled. “Now, you go into your bedroom and wash your face, change your clothes. I’m going to go into the hall bathroom and do the same, then we’re going to go downstairs and eat pizza and French fries and try to get Candice thinking about normal things instead of bad ones.”
“Yes mom.”
“Good, now scoot.” Sharon said, making a shooing motion with both hands.
<
br /> Jessica got up and went over to the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. “Thanks mom.” she said, looking over her shoulder.
“Everything’s going to work out.” Sharon said, flashing another smile. “You’ll see. They’ll figure out what’s wrong and fix it, and it’ll all be better. Until then, we’ll just stay out of their way so they can work it through.”
“I hope so.” Jessica said quietly.
“I know so. Now go, clean yourself up so you don’t look like you’ve been crying like a schoolgirl.”
Jessica smiled, and slipped out into the hallway. She heard Candice talking to her father downstairs, it sounded like he was debating the merits of various ice cream flavors with her, and smiled again. She went down the hall to the master bedroom. When she turned on the light and caught sight of herself in the dresser mirror, she chuckled ruefully.
Her mother was right, she looked a frightful mess. All of her makeup had run from the crying, leaving streaks and tracks all down her cheeks and face. Her eyes looked huge and wide from the film of tears that still lingered. And her hair needed a good brushing. She closed the bedroom door, then slipped off her shoes while she stood at the closet and pondered. Finally she pulled out a pair of casual slacks and a knit shirt and laid them out on the bed.
The work clothes went into the hamper by the bathroom door, then she bent over the bathroom sink in her underwear and washed her face and neck twice before she dared to look in the mirror over the sink. She looked a little pale, but refreshed and a lot better. Jessica dried off with a towel, then ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a pony tail with a scrunchie. After dressing, with her abulations completed, she felt a lot better.
When she emerged and went back downstairs, she saw her mother was already in the kitchen, wearing a clean blouse and watching as Candice carefully measured out flour. A small bowl of eggs was already out, the sugar canister was open, with a bag of chocolate chips next to them both; all stood waiting for their turn to be added to the mixer.
Apocalypse Atlanta Page 17
