This World We Live In ls-3

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  “And what about your parents, Lisa?” Mom asked. “Are they all right?”

  Lisa had finished feeding the baby and was patting him gently.

  “Let me,” Charlie said, and Lisa gave Gabriel to him.

  “We never got out west,” Dad said. “We don’t know.”

  “It was horrible,” Lisa said. “We went from one evac camp to another, for as long as I could manage. Then the flu hit. By the time they lifted the quarantine, I was too far along to travel.”

  “Everyone tried,” Dad said. “Lisa got extra food because she was pregnant. There were some great people: doctors, nurses, sacrificing their lives to help others. But by the time Gabriel was born, we’d been told not to try to go farther west. They said there was no point: Colorado, Nevada, were devastated. What survivors there were had been moved east or south.”

  “We thought about you all the time,” I said. “Hoping and worrying.”

  “You were never out of our thoughts,” Dad said. “Our thoughts and our prayers.”

  “Was Gabriel really born on Christmas?” I asked.

  “He sure was,” Charlie said. “I was there.” Gabriel was holding on to his ring finger with a possessive grip.

  “Are you a doctor?” Matt asked.

  Charlie laughed again. “Not hardly,” he said. “I was a telemarketer back in the day.”

  We all laughed at the very thought of telemarketers.

  “We met at the evac camp,” Dad said. “Charlie was great, helping everybody, boosting morale.”

  “You make it sound like a prison camp,” Matt said. He was clutching Syl’s hand. I wonder what she’s told him about her time on the road.

  “In some ways it was like a prison camp,” Dad said. “Especially during the quarantine. There was never enough food, or blankets, or medicine. But we held on, and Lisa had the baby, and thank God, they both came through.”

  “Did you all meet there?” Jon asked. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your names.”

  “Alex and Julie Morales,” Alex said. “No. We met later, maybe two months ago? Time loses a lot of its meaning.”

  “Lisa and I had decided to come back,” Dad said. “She knew how important it was for me to be with my children, all my children. Charlie came along because by then we couldn’t imagine life without him. He’s the best friend we’ve ever had. We ran into Alex and Julie, who were making their way back east, also.”

  “You’ve stuck together all this time?” Syl asked.

  “I know,” Dad said. “It’s unusual. In some ways we’ve become a family. Other people came and went, but the five of us held on.”

  “Hal and Lisa have been kind to us,” Alex said. “Very protective of Julie.”

  “She’s worth protecting,” Charlie said. “You both are.”

  “I know it’s an imposition, Laura,” Dad said. “Us barging in on you like this. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t thought what our next step should be.”

  “Julie and I won’t be staying,” Alex said. “We have other plans.”

  Dad held his hand up to stop him. “Julie’s exhausted,” he said. “Look at her. She’s already fallen asleep. You need time to recover before you move on.”

  I held my breath, waiting for Mom’s response to all this. It was one thing for me to be thrilled that Dad was back. It was another for her to welcome her ex-husband, his wife and baby, and three strangers.

  “You caught us at a good time,” Mom said. “Matt and Jon have spent the past few weeks fishing in the Delaware.”

  “No kidding,” Dad said. “The shad were running?”

  “We got our share,” Matt said.

  “Enough for all of us, at least for a few days,” Mom said. “We have some cans of food, too. There’ve been government handouts. We get food on Monday.”

  “Maybe they’ll let Dad have some,” Jon said. “Like they gave some to Syl.”

  “Well, we won’t know that until Monday,” Mom said. “But if you don’t mind eating fish for the next few days, I don’t see why you can’t stay here.”

  “Oh, Laura,” Dad said.

  “You and Lisa and the baby can sleep in the sunroom,” Mom said. “We can’t count on electricity, but the woodstove will keep you warm. That will be best for the baby. Julie can share the kitchen with Miranda and me, and Jon, Alex, and Charlie can sleep in the dining room. Between the mattresses and the sleeping bags and the blankets, we should manage all right.”

  “This is very kind of you, Laura,” Charlie said. “And you’ll see. We’re great workers.”

  “Good,” Mom said. “That’s settled. Jon, take a plastic bag and go to the garage and bring back some fish. A lot of fish. We’ll have to eat in shifts, I’m afraid, but at least we’ll all have supper.”

  “We only eat two meals a day,” Matt said.

  “Are you kidding?” Alex said. “Two meals a day? That’s luxury.”

  “It is for us, too,” Matt said.

  “It’ll be fine,” Mom said. “It’ll work out. We’ll make it work out.”

  June 2

  Last night, I wrote my diary entry in my bedroom closet, the most private place I could think of. Thanks to a couple of the flashlight pens Jon gave me, I had enough light, and although I could hear Matt and Syl murmuring in their room, the only other sound was Gabriel crying.

  Gabriel cries a lot.

  I hid my diary along with my other diaries, but I got it in my head my hiding place would be too easy to find if anyone really looked. It was hard enough after Matt brought Syl, but Charlie and Alex and Julie are strangers, and who knows what they were like before things happened, or even what they’re like now.

  So I was in my closet, searching for a better hiding place, which was why I got to hear Mom and Matt arguing in Matt’s bedroom.

  “They can’t stay,” Matt said. “You know that.”

  “This is what I know,” Mom said. “I’ve already told Jon this, and I’ll tell Miranda when we have a moment alone. There is only one person in this house who matters and that’s the baby. He can’t survive without his mother, so that makes Lisa the second most important person. All the rest of us, even the girls, can get by if we have to. Syl’s shown me that. But the baby can’t, so we have to see to it that Lisa is taken care of, that she has enough to eat, that the baby is kept warm and dry. If that means all those people move into this house, then so be it. If that means we all eat a little less so Lisa can eat a little more, then so be it. No baby is going to die because I ate a second can of green beans. Do you understand me?”

  “I do,” Matt said. “And on the face of it what you’re saying makes sense. But if you’re so concerned about that second can of green beans, how can you justify Dad eating it? Let alone all those other people. Mom, Jon and I worked hard for those fish. It wasn’t fun and games, especially not the second trip. You know as well as I do the food we’re getting from town isn’t enough to sustain us, and it sure isn’t going to last forever. We need to be as strong as possible when we have to leave here. Just having Dad and Lisa and that army they brought with them here cuts down on our chances. What if the rains stop? Will we fight with them for water?”

  “I’m not turning them out,” Mom said. “This isn’t a way station for Hal. You’re his children. He has rights.”

  “He has no rights!” Matt exploded. “He deserted us twice. He left you years ago—”

  “That was a mutual decision,” Mom said.

  “He left you,” Matt said. “You would have kept the marriage going if he hadn’t and you know that. And then he and Lisa drop by last summer and go their merry way. We owe them nothing.”

  “They brought us food,” Mom said. “Food that kept us alive for weeks, maybe months. Food they could have kept for themselves. And would things have been better if they’d stayed? Lisa hysterical with worry over her parents? Food running out and then the sickness. Maybe she wouldn’t have survived. Maybe the baby would have died. Things could have been so much worse, Matt. I�
��m not sure they’d have been any better.”

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Matt said, and his voice got so much lower I had to strain to hear him. “Maybe you should have let Miranda go with them. That might have been the best thing after all.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in my stomach. I had never known Dad wanted me along with him and Lisa when they left here last summer.

  “Is that what you wish for her?” Mom asked. “Evac camps? A life like Syl’s?”

  “Leave Syl out of this,” Matt said. “She didn’t have parents to look after her. Dad would have protected Miranda. Yeah, it would have been hard, but it’s been hard for her here. And we knew, we all knew, that whatever food we had would last that much longer with one less mouth to feed.”

  “I couldn’t let her go,” Mom said. “I couldn’t send Miranda or Jon or you out there knowing I might never see you again. I don’t know how those kids’ parents could have done it, Alex and Julie’s.”

  “My guess is they don’t have parents,” Matt said. “Any more than Syl does.”

  Mom sighed. “This is a horrible time,” she said. “But we’ve gotten through it together, and that’s how it’s going to be. I’m sure Hal’s already thinking about what to do next. In the meantime we’ll make do. Lisa isn’t going to go hungry while she’s nursing. We can’t let that happen.”

  I heard Syl walking up the stairs. “Laura?” she said. “I remembered seeing a flannel sheet in the linen closet. I thought we could cut it up for diapers.”

  “Good idea,” Mom said.

  “Stay here for a moment,” Matt said. “Mom and I have been talking, and I want you to know what’s going on.”

  I used that chance to slip out of my bedroom and make my way downstairs before anyone realized I might have eavesdropped. My timing was perfect, since as I walked past the living room, I heard an argument between Dad and Lisa.

  “We can’t let Julie go,” Lisa said. “Who knows where Alex will take her, what will become of her.”

  “We know exactly where she’s going,” Dad said. “Alex’s been very clear about their plans.”

  “To leave her in an orphanage,” Lisa said. “So he can go off to Ohio.”

  “It’s not an orphanage,” Dad said. “It’s a convent, and it took in girls like Julie last summer. It’s not like he’s planning to join the circus. He feels that Julie would be safer at the convent than she is on the road.”

  “But she’d be safe with us!” Lisa cried. “Hal, I don’t think I can survive without Julie. She understands what I’ve gone through. No one else does.”

  “I do,” Dad said. “I wish you’d believe me, Lisa.”

  “You don’t,” Lisa said. “You say you do. You may even believe it, but you don’t. You decided right away that your mother had died. Even when we were trying to make it out west, you never thought you’d see your mother again. But my whole family was out there—my parents, my sisters. I’ll never know if they’re alive or dead. All I have is my faith that God will reunite us. Julie knows how that feels, that need to see your family again, that terror that you never will. She’s the only one I can talk to.”

  “You can talk to me,” Dad said. “You are talking to me.”

  “It makes no sense for Julie to live with nuns she’s never even met,” Lisa said. “If Alex would let her stay with us, then he could do whatever he wants, and he’d never have to worry about her. Please, Hal. Talk to him again, try to convince him. I’m sure the nuns are wonderful women, devout women, but Julie doesn’t know them. She knows us. I’ve lost so much, Hal. God brought Julie to me, to help me through. He can’t want me to lose her.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  I turned around and saw Alex standing there. Who knows how long he’d been watching me.

  “I’m not enjoying any of this,” I said to him. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Miranda, is that you?” Dad called.

  “Yeah, Dad,” I said, sticking my head into the living room, nice and casual. “I was looking for Lisa. I wanted to tell her Syl found a flannel sheet Gabriel can use for diapers. Oh, hi, Lisa. I bet Gabriel will like that, a new set of diapers.”

  “I know I will,” Dad said. “We’ve been down to four diapers for weeks now. Every night we wash three and hope they’ll be dry by the morning.”

  I imagined quickly what my life would have been like if I’d left with Dad and Lisa back in August. Only I couldn’t imagine. Maybe if I’d gone, Mom, Matt, and Jon would have left before winter got bad. Maybe I never would have seen them again, and I’d be like Lisa, not knowing if my family was still alive, only without her faith. Or maybe I’d have her faith. Lisa hadn’t been particularly religious that I could remember.

  “I saw some textbooks, Miranda,” Alex said. “Julie’s in eighth grade. Would it be all right if we used some of your books?”

  “They’re ninth grade textbooks,” I said, like that would make a difference. “Sure. Jon’s stopped using them, at least for the summer.”

  “We have a Bible,” Lisa said. “Julie can read from that.”

  Alex smiled at her. “Yes, she can,” he said. “Julie and I read from our missal. But it would be good for her to review spelling and grammar and math. She was a very good student when she went to Holy Angels.”

  I was starting to see what Lisa was up against. Alex reminded me of Matt, only a 100 times more protective. Then again, Alex and Julie didn’t have a mother watching over them.

  What were their lives like? How could they endure without parents? How had Syl?

  No matter how awful I’d had it, I realized how lucky I was. Even now, back in my freezing cold closet, the only light coming from my two flashlight pens, I do understand that, in spite of everything, I’m one of the lucky ones.

  Chapter 9

  June 3

  If you’d asked me a week ago what it would take for me to feel better, I would’ve said knowing how Dad and Lisa and the baby were, meeting a boy my own age, and running water.

  Now I have all three. I guess I must feel better.

  Dad and Matt got the water running again, which, with ten people and a baby in the house, is a really good thing. All that snow and rain have finally paid off, and the sound of the toilets flushing is music to everybody’s ears.

  Gabriel isn’t exactly Baby Rachel, but I think he’s screaming a little bit less. Mom says Jon was colicky also, but I don’t remember. Charlie is great with the baby. I think the only times Gabriel isn’t crying is when he’s nursing and when Charlie sings him lullabies.

  Alex may not be the teenage boy of my dreams, but he is a teenage boy. He’s eighteen, and if things had stayed normal, he’d be graduating high school this month and preparing to go to Georgetown. Julie told Jon, who told Mom, who told Matt, who told me.

  If Alex isn’t the teenage boy of my dreams, Julie seems to be the teenage girl of Jon’s. Or maybe he’s just as desperate for someone his age as I was. He and Julie always seem to be sitting next to each other and talking, even playing chess. I guess Alex approves of Jon and Mom approves of Julie. I know Mom approves of Alex, who stands up every time Mom enters a room and says please and thank you and may I help you. He’s definitely Mom’s dream of a teenage boy.

  With all this happiness going on, you’d think I’d be happy, too. Or at least not as obsessed with how long the fish is going to last.

  Except we all are. Nobody says so, because that would be rude. But today, instead of fish and a quarter can of vegetables each (except for Lisa, who gets double portions of everything), we had fish and a whiff of vegetables.

  It’s amazing. I never used to like red cabbage, but now when I get only a teaspoon of it, it’s all I can think about. How lovely. How tasty. How not fish it is.

  Pretty soon the fish is going to be not fish also.

  Charlie eats the least of us, and I have to admit I thought he was sneaking into the garage and stealing shad until he told us a bit about himself.

  “I used
to weigh three hundred and seventy pounds,” he told us over a quarter teaspoon of red cabbage. “I was scheduled for weight loss surgery on May twenty-third. Instead I went on a starvation diet, with lots of walking and biking for exercise.” He laughed. “This is the best shape I’ve ever been in.”

  “It’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow anybody some good,” Syl said, and we all stared at her.

  “My grandmother used to say that,” she said.

  That got us laughing, and then we came up with clichés that used to mean something. The early bird catches the worm. Big fish in a small pond.

  The best one was half a loaf is better than none at all. I thought we’d never stop laughing after Dad came up with that.

  But then Gabriel started yowling, and Lisa nursed him for the 87 th time that day and that quieted all of us.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Dad said. “It’s been wonderful staying here, and Laura, you have no idea how grateful we are, but this house was never meant for ten people.”

  “I think we all know that,” Mom said.

  “Julie and I won’t be staying much longer,” Alex said. “We shouldn’t have stayed as long as we have, but she needed the rest.”

  “You did, too,” Julie said. “You’re the one who collapsed last week.”

  “Julie,” Alex said.

  “We all needed the rest,” Charlie said. “Laura, you—well, all of you have saved our lives.”

  “Alex and Julie have places to go to,” Dad said. “But now that I have my children back, including Syl, who I didn’t even know about before, I don’t ever intend to leave you.”

  It’s funny how relieved I felt when Dad said that. I’d been trying not to think of his going away again. Even though I’d know he and Lisa and Gabriel were alive, it would still be awful not to have them with me.

  “The problem is we can’t be sure you’ll get any food,” Matt said. “It took a fair amount of convincing before they’d give Syl any.”

  Dad nodded. “That’s been my concern, too. We can’t keep eating your food, and we can’t be sure they’ll give us some.”