The Phoenix Curse: After - Part One

by D.R. Johnson

  It was early afternoon when I wandered off to the barn. I was hoping to avoid Jeremy, knowing he was going to make me work again, but I wanted a little time to myself. The calluses on my hands were already cracked and bleeding from this morning, and they felt like they were burning. He was so determined to turn his land into a productive farm and, at the moment, I didn't care.

  Instead, I retreated to the back of the barn out of view from the house and pulled out my carving knife along with a piece of wood. Seth had taught me how to carve shapes into the wood, but my carvings never seemed to turn out as pretty as his did. He told me to keep trying and someday I would be the best in the world.

  Before I got started, I set out a wooden panther that Seth carved for me a long time ago. It was one of the few things I had left of him, and I cherished it. It was all the company I wanted out here.

  A couple times, I had even tried carving my own likeness of the panther, but it never turned out even close to what Seth had given me. I abandoned the whole idea of trying and decided it was better to make my own things. I was just getting started on the figure of a girl with wild hair when I heard Jeremy's voice calling me to the house.

  "Kevin! Becky!" He bellowed. "Joss!"

  I groaned, not wanting to move. For a second, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the splintered wood of the barn wall and listened to world. The breeze carried voices from one of the nearby houses, along with the sounds of barking dogs.

  Sighing, I finally pulled myself to my feet. Reluctantly, I gathered all my things and placed them back in the proper pockets. I knew I had a responsibility to help this small community thrive, so I answered Jeremy's call. He would be assigning the afternoon tasks.

  This farm ain't gonna rebuild itself, y'all hear? His voice clattered around in my head. He said it all the time, and I knew he would say it again today. He was waiting for us at the porch, and I saw that Becky was already standing next to him.

  Becky was a year or two older than me, but not as old as Ali. She had long, straight blonde hair and blue eyes where Ali had wavy red curls and bright green eyes. She was very petite too, where Ali was strong and fierce. It wasn't fair to compare her to Ali, I knew that. I caught myself doing it from time to time without even thinking about it. Ali had been like a big sister to me, and Becky was just... distant. A stranger. She had never been cross with me, but she had never been nice to me either. It seemed like I was nothing more to her than the charity case that lived under the same roof as she did.

  Kevin, on the other hand, was closer to my age and was the one that had reached out to me when Ali left. He was a nice kid, talking to me and dragging me into his games, but I felt more comfortable being alone. I wanted my time to remember Seth and Ali. These people never knew Seth and didn't know Ali well enough to help me keep their memories, so cherished them on my own.

  Kevin ran from around the house, a shovel already in his hands. It looked like he was working on a project that I didn't care to know about. Seeing the shovel in his hands made me wince as I glanced down at my own damaged palms.

  Looking back to Jeremy, a round man who had the same blue tint to his eyes that Becky had, I waited for him to dole out our assignments. I was hoping mine didn't involve helping Kevin with the shoveling, or using the axe. That's how I'd gotten these stupid blisters in the first place.

  Jeremy gave another version of the same speech he repeated every day. My mind drifted to other thoughts as his deep voice droned on, but I knew the gist of what he was saying.

  We are a family and a community.

  With our hard work, times are changing for the better.

  We need to prepare for the colder months ahead. Winter is coming.

  "This farm ain't gonna rebuild itself," he grumbled at the end, and I snapped back to attention. I shared a quick glance with Kevin to see that he looked as bored as I felt. When he started to smirk, I looked away, hoping Jeremy wouldn't notice. I knew he'd give Kevin a piece of his mind if he caught him. The last thing I wanted to do was have Jeremy think I was disrespecting him.

  The moment passed, and Jeremy didn't seem to notice or care. He sent Becky back to the house to help his wife Mary, whom he commonly referred to as 'Mother.' Between the two of them, they kept our clothes washed, the food cooked, and the house clean.

  Sometimes it felt like I was in one of those old-timey movies that my granddad liked to watch. I didn't figure that would have gone over well at my house, at least what I could remember of it anyway. My dad cooked just as much as my mom did, while Seth and I did a lot of the cleaning. I didn't know why that had to change just because the world was all shot to hell now. Also, the thought of them trying to get Ali in the kitchen made me laugh.

  Jeremy was talking about a storage project with Kevin before he sent him back around the house. Then he turned his gaze to me, and I shifted nervously, almost feeling guilty over my own thoughts.

  Even though he seemed gruff, I knew it was only because the situation was so dire. I truly respected Jeremy and what he was accomplishing here. In fact, I was quite grateful that he and Mary had taken me in when they did, even though I knew I didn't show it very well. I was too quiet and sullen for their tastes and it felt like Jeremy didn't know what to make of me at times.

  Mary, on the other hand, had more patience with me. She would let me have the space that I so desperately wanted, although she always wanted me close to the house. She would not have liked me going out behind the barn without telling anyone.

  As Jeremy's eyes scrutinized me, I swallowed hard and took a chance, turning my sore hands out to him. My palms were up so he could see the bleeding calluses, and he immediately pursed his lips together.

  "Well boy, no point in working you till your hands fall off,” he said, falling back into thoughtful consideration, stroking the whiskers on his chin with one hand. "Why don't you go have Mother clean those up for you? Then see if she might have something you can put a little muscle to in the house. I'll help Kevin out back till supper."

  "Yes sir, Mr. Powell," I nodded politely, and he grunted in reply. That was the extent of our relationship for the most part, and I was happy with that.

  Not waiting for Jeremy to say anything else, I entered the house, finding both Becky and Mary in the kitchen. Becky gave me a solemn glance as I walked in, but Mary offered me a warm smile.

  "Well, what do we have here?" She said, coming to me as I held out my hands for her to inspect.

  "Mr. Powell sent me in to be bandaged up," I stated, but she was already gasping and pulling me over to the sink before I had even finished talking.

  We didn't have running water in the house, but there was a well out back and a wood stove in the kitchen that was almost always smoldering. It was hot as hell in the depths of summer, but it kept Mary with a handy supply of clean, fresh water. She used some of her store to wash the dirt off my hands and out of the sores so she could get a better look.

  "Hrm, looks like you might get a break for a day or so while these heal up, huh?" She smiled at me, turning to leave the room. She was probably heading for the medicine cabinet in the washroom. If I was lucky, there might even be some cream to help with the healing.

  I sneaked a look at Becky while she plucked a scrawny hen for dinner. Her blue eyes flashed up at me briefly but she quickly returned her attention to her task. Thoughts swirled in my head, and I wondered if she was as scarred and numb to pain as I was. Maybe that was why she would never talk to me. That wasn't a topic of conversation I wanted to bring up, though. It would result in questions about my past, and I wasn't ready to share. These people knew about Ali, but neither Ali nor I had told them about Seth.

  I looked at my hands, my thoughts again drifting to my brother and I wondered what he would do right now. I desperately wanted to make him proud of me, so I often thought about how he would handle a situation. He would smile at Becky, and be as nice to her as he possibly could. He might even be able to get her to laugh. That's the kind o
f guy Seth was.

  I tried to think of something, anything, to say before Mary came back in, but my mind failed me. I was still standing silently at the sink when she returned.

  "I found something that will help with those sores, love. Why don't you come have a seat at the table while I fix you up?" Her voice was so warm and inviting that I had no trouble smiling and talking to her.

  "Yes, Mrs. Mary," I returned her smile as I sat beside her. "Is there anything else I can help you with in here? Mr. Powell doesn't want me working outside today."

  "Is that right?" she mumbled as she started rubbing some ointment into my blisters. It stung, but I managed to only wince a little bit. "Well, Becky and I have dinner handled, but there’s a lot of sorting that needs done from the last haul you boys pulled in."

  "I can do that!" I quickly jumped at the opportunity. I actually liked looking through all the new supplies that we brought back from our hauls. It was easy work, too. It consisted of separating clothes from tools and other useful items we brought in. Normally the food was pulled out first, so there wouldn't be anything left from the last haul as far as that goes. It had already been over a week since we had gone into Sweetwater.

  Mary laughed richly at my enthusiasm, and she nodded. "Sorting it is then. Just let me get these bandages on and it's off you go."

  She started humming an old song as she continued to work on my hands. I thought I recognized it, but I never paid much attention to music and lyrics when I was nine. Mary sang and hummed all the time, but if it wasn't a Christmas carol, I couldn't even begin to sing along. I didn't care, though. The humming seemed to make this place more like home.

  Becky knew the song and surprised me as she started singing along. Her voice carried softly through the house.

  Well it seems to me you lived your life

  Like a candle in the wind,

  Never knowing who to cling to

  When the rain set in.

  The song seemed haunting and beautiful at the same time. I became entranced by Becky's soft voice. It was better than any radio I could remember.

  I would have liked to known you

  But I was just a kid

  Your candle burned out long before

  Your legend ever did.

  Mary stopped humming as she finished with my dressings, and Becky fell silent. I looked at my hands, opening and closing them a few times to check my flexibility. Mary had done a fine job dressing the wounds. I found the sores restricted my movement more than the bandages.

  Thanking Mrs. Mary, I left the table and started for the stairs. Something made me pause as I passed Becky. I realized I finally had something to say to her.

  "You sing really pretty. You should do it more often." It sounded dumb to my own ears and heat began to seep into my cheeks. She looked startled that I had spoken to her for a second, but then she smiled. I saw the blush rising in her cheeks as her blue eyes sparkled.

  "Thank you," she whispered, and I fled up the stairs.