Exchange Rate

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  Mike would have a hard time feeling jealous or envious when he also had to see we had bad things happening to us as well.

  His emotions sprinted across his features, joy and despair. “We have extra supplies. Stay here as long as you like. And oh man, congratulations. Did you marry them?” Mike stood, opening his arms for a hug.

  I leapt into them. The man was really a large teddy bear, the kind you could win at a fair. He squeezed me tight, rocking us back and forth. “That’s real good, you two, real good.”

  Bodey joined us and together we moved in a soft swaying motion as he reveled in our good news. Happiness rekindled for our day, even amongst the ashes of so much loss.

  “If you’re leaving tonight, Mike, do you mind if we stay on for a day or two? We need to rest after the last couple weeks we’ve had.” John moved beside us, clapping Bodey’s shoulder.

  We pulled apart. I’m sure my outfit was explained by then, but did anyone care but me? I still wore my wedding dress. I wanted to be close to my husband. Oh wow, husband – I had a husband – and I was only nineteen.

  My birthday might have a bed in it.

  “Of course, you don’t need to ask. Take whatever you need or want. We were going to eat some lunch and then leave. Want to get there before they decide not to take anyone else, you know?” He placed his hands on his hips. “Let me tell Mary you’re here and we can all eat something together.”

  “Sure, thanks, brother.” John shook Mike’s hand. Once our host left to climb the stairs, John turned toward us, a partial smile warming me. “We’re going to eat something besides bark and sleep on an actual bed tonight.”

  Like Before.

  Now that was a happy birthday.

  Chapter 6

  Eating with Mike and Mary dug a hole in the center in our happy day. We couldn’t find any topic which didn’t make Mary or Mike didn’t know something about everything. They really had changed in the few months since we’d last seen them.

  Their house had lost something with the death of their two children. Shadows stretched from the corners and sadness stalked us as we walked from table to living room to the outhouse to the rooms they had for us.

  Mary and Mike didn’t finish their refried beans and rice, actually pushing their plates to the center of the table to stand. Waste wasn’t common and I watched the plates to make sure they weren’t some kind of illusion.

  Mike spoke, his cheeks pale and eyes deadpan. “We’re going to leave. Thank you again for visiting. Make yourselves at home. We won’t be back.” He nodded briskly, walking away from us.

  His wife didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge us as she walked away from the table. She stopped at the chair across from me, a black plastic booster seat propped on the cushion. Her long fingernail scraped over the textured surface and she whispered. “I don’t ever want to see one of these again.”

  The door closed behind them without even another goodbye.

  John chewed in silence, taking a second serving from the stainless steel pots resting on bamboo trivets in the center of the table.

  I shoveled more food into my mouth. Getting full wasn’t hard. One bite maybe two and I felt like I could roll from my chair. Consistent hunger will do that to your body, shrink your stomach. The rest of me wouldn’t stand for the stomach’s weakness. The too-full sensation was ignored and I continued eating. The discomfort of “full” was more welcome than the sharp pangs of hunger and permanent emptiness.

  Things seemed more hopeful.

  In between mouthfuls, Bodey pointed his fork at John. “Why can’t we go to the community? They asked us along with them. That might have been fun, different, you know?”

  John finished chewing. He swigged some water and then put down his utensil. He considered Bodey and me. “Yes, a community does sound good. Almost too good to be true with the details they gave us. But even if it’s real, we can’t travel with Mike and Mary. They’ve suffered a significant loss and they blame each other. Any prolonged time with them would be like sitting on a box filled with grenades. They’re going to explode and we don’t want to be around when they do.”

  I’d never seen Mary or Mike angry or even slightly upset. Picturing them mad, with their knowledge about weapons and guns sent a shiver of anxiety up my spine. Would they blame someone else? What if they came back to reclaim their home and we were still there. Would they remember they didn’t want to live there anymore?

  What if there wasn’t a community for them to escape to?

  What if there was?

  “Let’s sleep here tonight and make our way to Bayview tomorrow. I’d like to confirm things with Captain Phahn, see if he’s heard about this community.” He picked up his fork. “I saw some cookies in a jar in the kitchen. It’s not a cake, but we can use them to celebrate your wedding and then you two can take the master bedroom. I don’t think it’s been used in a long time. Mike mentioned Mary slept in the kids’ room and he stayed in the office upstairs.” He shrugged. “We aren’t at a hotel, but we can pretend.”

  “It might as well be. We haven’t slept in a bed in...” I couldn’t remember the last time we had. There was a house we’d broken into the previous winter, but the beds hadn’t been clean and we’d slept on the floor after attempting the soft comforter of the last place and finding a rat’s nest in the stuffing.

  Yeah, fun times.

  We were married and our wedding night was soon upon us. In a bed. I couldn’t wait.

  John shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat and pushed the food around on his plate. “Okay, so... I know you know about... Ahem... sex.”

  The topic took me by surprise and I glanced at Bodey who didn’t meet my gaze as a flush crept up his cheeks. Neither of us replied but shoved more food into our mouths.

  John powered on. “Yes, so, something they never really discussed at the schools or in the books is that... being intimate with something – I mean, someone can and will cause pregnancy.” He nodded jerkily at me, like I didn’t know what he meant but that I would by the time he finished.

  “Dad, we know about that.” Bodey stared at his plate, unwilling or unable to look his dad in the face.

  “Okay, so you’re married now. Ahem. Before you do anything, you should have a discussion about what you would do with a baby. Kelly is a healthy enough girl. I’m sure she can get pregnant.” John glanced between us. “Unless of course, you have already, well, you know, and she hasn’t gotten pregnant yet and...” He waved his hand, returning to his dinner. “Well, anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I just... okay?”

  I smiled at John and Bodey. Living with a nurse for a mother, I had more experience with the medical talks and discussing something as trivial as sex wasn’t out of my scope. “Since I’m the only girl here, I guess I should share with you that I haven’t had a period in months – literally months, if not a year – I’m not sure if I can even get pregnant in my current condition. I’m not sure how that works. However, I’m certain I don’t eat enough food for my body to be fertile.”

  Too much personal information to share with the two men, but they needed to have some reassurances. I wouldn’t discuss this stuff with Mom for fun. Usually our discussions were in a more clinical setting.

  Maybe I couldn’t have children and that would affect how Bodey felt about me.

  Something even more important needed to pass between the three of us, a reason to trust Bodey and me. I couldn’t stand for John to think we’d messed around behind his back. “Plus, we haven’t, you know, yet.” I raised my eyebrows, careful to roll my eyes at the table and not meet anyone’s gaze. Complete embarrassment would choke me up and I didn’t need to add more shame on top of it.

  Poor Bodey might be getting a defective wife. Yet, at the same time, would we want a child in the conditions we lived in? Or didn’t live actually, but rather survived?

  John cleared his throat again. “That’s good. I think. I’m not sure how it works, but it makes sense that if you haven’t had yo
ur period then maybe the odds are you can’t get pregnant. Reproduction isn’t exactly my specialty.” He offered an uncomfortable chuckle. “So, we can head out tomorrow after breakfast. I’ll start packing first thing. Take your... well, take your time.”

  He rose from the table. “I’m going to scout out the items outside and see if any more of their supplies are portable. Maybe you guys could find yourselves different clothes. Your dress won’t be comfortable to travel in, Kelly.” He nodded curtly, obviously finished with our biology discussion.

  John left. His exit relieved us and we both released our air on a whoosh. Bodey met my gaze and we giggled. Grabbing hands, we leaned into each other, our lips meeting. We were married. There was nothing wrong with how we wanted to touch and be with each other.

  I reveled in the warmth of his skin. “Can we go to our room now?” For far too long, I’d been begging Bodey to be with me. And he hadn’t, for whatever reason, and now that we were married, he had to. It was his job or something.

  He stood, pulling me with him. “Yes, I don’t want to wait any longer.” And a rush of warmth filled me. He really did want me as badly as I craved him. His control impressed me. Especially when I considered all the times I threw myself at him.

  I dropped my jaw in mock shock. Following him up the stairs, I teased. “You mean, you’re willing to do this? I don’t want you to feel forced or coerced.” Secretly, I just wanted him to tell me he wanted to. Just some confirmation I wasn’t the only one craving touch.

  Bodey turned when we reached the door to the master bedroom. He pushed open the panel and held my gaze. “Willing? You’re all I think about. Everything about you. Every single detail.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, cupping my neck to draw me close. His lips grazed mine. “I love you.”

  He didn’t let me answer as he dipped his head and our lips melded together, dancing and playing but with a ferocity of need I hadn’t enjoyed before. Bodey always held himself back, like he was scared of hurting me or something. Or maybe he was afraid of wanting too much.

  I gave as good as I got and we tumbled to the bed, our arms working at our waists to get closer. A shower would’ve been nice, but since it wasn’t an option, we ignored that need and met others.

  Somehow, I hoped the door was closed. As uncomfortable as everyone was just talking about sex, I doubted John would survive walking in on us. If John did walk in on us, Bodey might be the one that didn’t survive because of embarrassment.

  ~~~

  Bodey pulled his shirt over his head, shrugging the hem down over his chest and back. “Yeah, I can’t believe I waited that long.” He grinned, watching me pull on a borrowed shirt and my tights. I hadn’t found a pair of jeans or cargo pants yet, but I would. The Scoggins had stored clothes almost as much as they’d hoarded first aid supplies. I felt closer to him than I had before, like the bliss had been the cement to bind us together.

  For our first time together, I hadn’t expected it to be so much fun. Where had the theory gone where life was supposed to go from bad to worse to worst? Walking in the woods and dealing with Charlie and the fire and Shane’s group chasing us had been worse, but Mom had died the year before so I knew what worst truly was.

  Being married to Bodey didn’t qualify as negative and being together had slammed us clear over the line to better and best. The shift in the quality of life startled me. I’d been drifting, just existing on the borders of being happy. So fast, we’d gone from liking each other, kissing, hanging out, best-friend status to love you and marriage and physically joining together.

  My head spun and my muscles quivered.

  I sat on the mattress and leaned against the headboard to our borrowed bed. “Do you think we should go to the community?” Bodey’s opinion meant a lot to me. John’s did, too, but I couldn’t make up my mind which way to go.

  For some reason, I expected myself to shy away from any and all collections of organized people. My experience at the camp had burned me, but I hadn’t had a shower or seen a light bulb in forever. What if they did have music and a community that had electricity? I would trade so much of our hiking lifestyle for a steady place to call home. Even if it wasn’t the perfect society.

  Did I question John’s decision because he hadn’t asked our opinion, or did I really care about going?

  Bodey pulled up a leg and sat on the mattress with me. Picking at the quilt tie in the inches between us, he wiggled his pursed lips as he mulled over my question. He shrugged softly. “You know, I’m not sure. Dad doesn’t want to and I trust his reasons, but at the same time, Mike brought up some things I would consider trading other things for.” He sighed. “You wouldn’t believe how much I miss showers.”

  “Oh yes, I would.” I didn’t want to mention that even though we’d been under the blankets, I hadn’t wanted him to look under the covers in case I wasn’t clean enough. Trying to stay hygienic with little access to cleaning water or soap wasn’t easy, if even possible.

  “Do you miss your stuff?” He watched me, twisting the yarn between his strong fingers.

  This time, I shrugged. “Nah, it’s just stuff. I don’t even remember what I had.”

  He reached for my hand, his warmth caressing. “I don’t feel like I lost anything.” He leaned close and kissed me soft as air.

  I understood what he meant. We’d left a pile of ashes and burning supplies with more than we’d ever had. Our losses faded under the umbrella of happiness.

  He made me happy. For once in a long time, lightness filled my chest and I didn’t have an aching need to find the next place or return to a steady site. Bodey was sturdy and the house we were in – even temporary – gave me a consoled sensation I wanted to hold close for a long time.

  ~~~

  “Too bad we can’t just stay in this room forever. No one could find us and food would just magically appear.” I unhooked the pack I’d claimed earlier and stuffed sweatshirts and socks inside the large pocket. The handmade quilt on the bed was made for a twin-sized bed but had been draped over a queen. I folded it tightly and tucked the material into the bottom pocket of my hiking pack.

  I bent at the waist and tugged on the loose sole of my boot. At the toe, the rubber piece pulled off in my hand, leaving a hole displaying the white of my sock. Lovely. I groaned. “Bodey, I need a new pair of boots. The sole’s bad on these.” Boots weren’t easy to come by. Especially my size.

  “Check Mary’s closet. She kept different sizes of everything on hand. I bet she has an entire new wardrobe in there you could pack.” Bodey pointed at the double sliding doors beside the entryway to the bedroom. He moved without rushing. Like he hadn’t yet put together the horrors in the house.

  Crossing the room, I didn’t expect much. She’d packed up her things, there was most likely nothing left. The panels slid open soundlessly, revealing neatly organized stacks of clothing on a rack above hanging clothes and shoes lined up neatly on the ground. “Wow.” I breathed, my nerves humming but stalled for a moment.

  Jeans in blues and blacks were my first stop. I’d lost so much weight over the last year, I didn’t have a clue what size pants I wore. To my surprise, I found a pair of cargo jeans in my old size. I’d been wearing tights to keep myself warm because the jeans I wore were too loose to keep me warm.

  I held up the pants. Holy cow, they’d never fit. Digging around the pile, I found a pair two sizes smaller than my norm and slipped them on. Snug, like a glove and not too tight. Excitement sped up my movements. I dug for long-sleeve shirts and short sleeves, a hoodie, socks, gloves, and tried to hold back my giddiness. Seriously! Clothes. I hadn’t had new clothes in forever. The only thing that would make that day the best of my life would be a shower.

  Boots. I needed boots. That was why I’d gone into the long closet in the first place. Inspecting every shoe, I located every size but my own. I grabbed the closest one by rounding up and slid on an extra pair of socks. My feet might sweat or even be uncomfortable in too big of shoes, but t
hey wouldn’t be cold or wet which was more important than anything else. The brand-new leather laces crinkled as I tied them.

  Twirling into the room, I tucked my shoulder and batted my eyelashes. “What do you think?”

  Bodey grinned and rushed to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I think I love you. What do you think of that?”

  My heart fluttered and I leaned into his chest. “I think I like that.”

  My emotions were pretty solid considering death chased us around every corner. For a few hours we didn’t have to look behind every tree and watch our step or be quiet because someone might hear us. As the sun slipped behind the mountains, I didn’t have to rub my lower back because of weight I’d carried all day on my shoulders.

  So I relaxed, I let my guard down. In the mudroom, I searched for some bleach or cleaning chemical I could wash our knives with. I reached into the cupboard below the sink, accidentally knocking over a box. The contents spilled to the ground.

  Small greenish-white crystals bounced on the linoleum. The discovery saddened me and I slowly picked up the mess, careful to move the poison out of reach. Even without little kids there, it seemed disrespectful to their memories to just leave the poison there.

  Opening the door to the back deck, I checked for any bleach on her storage shelves. Beside the wooden shelves that reached higher than me, a child-sized table with four primary-colored chairs had been tucked against the siding in the corner.

  Still set, it was easy to see that Mary and Mike hadn’t been able to return to the children’s play area. I stepped around the bright red square covered with a tea set including plates and porcelain utensils.

  But greenish-white crystals caught my eye on the remaining crust of a sandwich. The hard, dry bread had been there a while – my guess, a week or so – and the crystals sprinkled from the food when I nudged it with a fork. Children wouldn’t put candy inside a sandwich. That just didn’t make sense.