Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone

by Styles, M. A.

  “So, that leaves you. What do you miss? Let me guess! Bourbon straight from the barrel. A barely cooked steak. Drinking a dozen raw eggs.” He waited a pause looking over at her, and her smirk had turned into a grin. “No, you could still do that if you wanted to… I got it. Cotton candy.”

  She turned away from the night sky and looked at him, giving a bit of a laugh. “No, surprisingly, I prefer kettle corn if we’re going to talk state fair food.”

  “Damn, I should’ve know. Sweet and salty,” he said snapping his fingers and shaking his head back and forth. He looked at her, and she was already looking back up at the sky. He followed her gaze.

  It was so dark, not an artificial light in the entire sky for as far as they knew. There were bright clusters of stars twinkling here and there. He even found a few constellations he remembered learning about as a kid. He made a mental note to get the kids out here one night and teach them some. There had to be a book somewhere in the schools library that told of one or two.

  “Strawberries.”

  He turned to Mac who was still looking straight up from her back. “What?” he asked, not filtering in what she had said to snap him out of his thoughts.

  “Strawberries. That’s what I miss.”

  “Strawberries? That doesn’t seem like something that should be too hard to find in your travels and contacts. They don’t grow any at the Ranch?”

  “No. There might be some wild ones growing some where, but I haven’t found any yet.”

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say, I never would’ve guessed that. Berries, huh?” He gave her a smile.

  “Berries are fine. I can still get most of them, but it’s strawberries that I think about more often than not.” She laid there, still looking up, but not going on.

  Jack gave her a mm-hmm in response, then leaned back on his hands and continued looking at the starry sky some more. He wasn’t going to push. Mac was not much of a talker, and he thought he’d give her the same courtesy as she gave them: not asking any more questions than necessary. But then she spoke again.

  “When I was a kid, my mom had this garden. I mean like our backyard was this crazy collection of beautiful flowers. Roses, hydrangea, snap dragons bordering everything. Sunflowers in the summer, Lilac bushes in the spring. She planted them all when she and my father first got married and bought the house. The lilacs were her favorite. When we got older, she had less time to spend in the garden, and we got landscapers who took care if it all. But she still oversaw when she could, making sure they were all treated perfectly.”

  Jack turned to her as she spoke, even though she still looked up at the darkness. He didn’t interrupt, just listened.

  “All those colors. It was beautiful. She would always have them bring in a bouquet for the house. Especially the lilacs; she loved the lilacs. The whole house was just taken over with the smell of them. The light purple all crowded into her favorite milk glass vase. I’m pretty sure it was my grandma’s. But there was one thing she left for herself and would never let the landscapers touch, save for watering them. Strawberries. She had this, like, five by five little plot hidden in a frame work of trellised peach colored roses. Any free time she had, which was not much, she was out there. Tending to the vines. Watching for the little white flowers to bloom. Checking for ripeness, waiting for them to be just the right shade of red, and then she’d pick them. I’d sit on the outside of the square plot, where the little path in was, and watch her gather them in this old wicker basket that was her mom’s.”

  She turned to Jack for just a second. “I don’t even think my father had ever been in there.” She gave a quick smile to herself and then turned back to the sky again. “Actually, he just may not have been allowed. But she would take the berries and make one single pie. Any others left she’d turn into jam. She would actually clear a day from her schedule to do it, and no one, not one assistant had the guts to ever try and tell her she couldn’t. No one was allowed a single, coveted berry unless it was in the pie after it was baked or the jam after it was canned. But every year, before she lifted up the basket and brought them inside, she would pick out a handful of the best, most ripe, most beautiful, and she’d hand me half. We’d eat them together, no one else, in the little square garden. Then we’d head inside with the secret. Or I don’t know, the tradition. I knew my mother loved me. I never doubted it, but when she’d hand me those berries, that’s when I felt it the most. I could actually hold it in my hand. I could look at it. It showed on her face the most too then, when she was eating them with me. All the love and care in the world.”

  Then she stopped, and that was it. She was done talking. She looked back up to the stars. Jack waited a bit, and when he was certain, he turned back to the sky, too. A few moments later the trio returned, each with some more small branches in their arms.

  “Fine, it’s on,” Nate said, grinning. He dropped the wood by the fire then shook Cara’s hand after she did the same.

  “Do I even want to know?” Jack asked.

  “It’s a simple challenge. You’re welcome to join,” Nate offered.

  “He said he could find me some tampons next time he’s out, no problem. I told him I’ve been looking every time we go out and so far, none. He said he’s been doing the same for a pair of sunglasses. I told him I could find a pair no problem,” Cara explained.

  “So,” Nate interceded. “I proposed that we see who can find each other’s items first. Care to partake?” he said in a mock tone of proper professionalism.

  “Ok, I get it. Scavenger hunt. What does the winner get?” Jack asked.

  They both just stared at him. Then they looked at each other and back at Jack again.

  “I guess we just kind of assumed being better than the other one was its own reward?” Nate shrugged.

  “So there’s no actual driving force behind this except getting the person you’re competing against the main thing they want?” Jack said sarcastically.

  “Son of a bitch. That does kind of ruin it when you put it that way,” Cara leaned back in defeat.

  “Wow, yeah. That pretty much took all the fun out of it,” said Nate.

  “No, no see. You gotta make a pot,” Joe said, shaking his head at them as he tossed some sticks over the top of the flames.

  “Ok, that makes more sense,” Jack turned to Joe.

  “Yeah, so you gotta put something on the line. Then whoever wins, gets what everyone put in. Simple poker rules,” Joe said, looking like the use of his own assumed supreme intellect was exhausting him.

  Cara and Nate looked at each other again in consideration.

  “I don’t see a problem with that,” Cara finally decided.

  “Yeah, but there’s still only two of you. So it would just be like: here, take this as payment for the tampons,” Jack said with a scrunched brow. “I’m going to need more of a payout to add more shit to my list while I’m out there.”

  Nate gave him a look of aggravation. “Man, you’re really buzz killing this.”

  “Seriously. Here, how about you join in. Add a third prize to the pot,” Cara said. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m in,” Joe said, falling back from his crouch. “I want a bottle of tequila.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “Ok. Now there will be four players to fill the pot. What are you thinking?”

  Jack considered for a little bit, looking into the fire, his feet pointed at it to keep warm. He looked at his feet for a bit. “Ok, new boots.”

  Everyone groaned at him.

  “Come on man, seriously?” Nate asked.

  Jack clicked his old worn hiking boots together to get their attention. He had them for two years before all of this even started, and used them frequently, but these last eighteen months were even harder on them. One lace had snapped off about five inches while he was pulling them to tie up his boots three months ago. There was barely any tread left on the bottoms, and the crease in the material where his toes bent had started to crack and pull away
. He looked back up at them.

  “Size ten, thanks.”

  “Jesus. Ok, fine.” Nate kicked Jack’s arm out from under him, and he fell back into the ground and laughed.

  All four of them turned to Mac and looked at her. It took her a little bit to process their silence and get her to look away from the night sky. When she did they were all looking at her, waiting to see if she was going to join in.

  “Oh, I’m good,” she said flatly, looking back up to the stars.

  “You’re ‘good?”” Cara looked at her with skepticism. “There’s nothing you need out there?”

  Mac crunch her brow up a bit in thought, then looked at them. “No. Not really.”

  Nate chuckled a bit. “You know what, I can kind of believe it. Ok, ok. Is there anything you might want?”

  Again she thought. “Fine. Get me a Dylan album.”

  “Oh, ok, don’t make it too easy for us now.” Jack looked at her and shook his head.

  “Seriously? A Bob Dylan album. There’s no food? No snack? Don’t need a new, clean cardigan or some shit?” Cara joked.

  “She’s always fucking eating some weird shit. She doesn’t need food. What about, like, a hair brush,” Joe said seriously, but Mac laughed, because she probably could use a hair brush. Her head hadn’t touched one in over a year.

  “Yeah, what is that stuff I see you eating? At the Ranch, and sometimes here,” Cara walked over and sat on Mac’s other side.

  They watched as she dug into her jacket pocket, the sound of plastic crinkling loudly in the night air. They all got a little closer to her as she pulled out the bag of bright orange strips.

  “It’s dried mango,” she stated simply.

  “Oh, of course. Dried mango. What the fuck else would it be,” Cara said and started laughing hard at the absurdity of it.

  “Why the hell do you have dried mango? Better yet, where did you get dried mango? Don’t tell me you know a place around here that some how grows it,” Nate said, genuinely interested.

  “No. It’s just from a store. Found it,” she said smirking.

  “And almonds too, huh?” Jack asked, remembering her giving them some from another plastic bag when they were out with her.

  She just shrugged and started to put the half full bag back in her pocket.

  “Oh fuck no. Put those mangos in the pot,” Cara said. “Dried mango would be a welcomed change from dried apples. I’ll look for that damn music for some mangos.”

  Nate laughed at Cara, then addressed the group. “Ok, I got it. We will make it a scavenger hunt. Whoever can find all of the things, wins the whole pot. Or at least who ever has found the most by the time we get sick of this.”

  “Deal,” Cara said.

  “In,” Joe shot his hand up.

  “Fine,” Jack pointed at them all. “Size ten.”

  They all looked at Mac again,and waited, “Sure.”

  “Hey!” Nate cheered. He then looked at Cara. “When I win that pot, I’m going to eat all that mango in front of you. And I’ve never had it. I’m pretty sure I won’t even like it.”

  She playfully punch his arm and laughed. “You better find something good to put in there. If it’s some bullshit stuff, you better know I’m going to make you put more in on top of that.”

  Jack stood up and brushed off his pants. “I’m going to bed. We’re going to have tons of shit to do in the morning.”

  Cara and Nate stood up with him. They watched Joe struggling to get himself up. Jack looked to Mac.

  “You coming?”

  “I’ll be up in a second,” she then nodded at Liam. “I’m going to take him in.”

  “We’ll help you,” Cara offered.

  “No, that’s ok. I’m pretty sure he weighs about ninety pounds, and it’s not that far.

  “I’d tell you to just use the elevator, but Magda always knows when it gets used without permission,” Nate said, looking guilty.

  Cara steered him towards the garage and gave him a push. “Yes she does, and she is never going to authorize the elevator so you could bring a friggin’ small boulder up to put in Joe’s bed as a prank.”

  “What?” Joe asked confused and Cara just started laughing. Their voices faded away as they went deeper into the parking garage.

  “You sure?” Jack asked as he lingered behind, taking the pitcher off the table.

  “I got him,” Mac said as she rose up and headed for the picnic table.

  Jack waited a few more seconds, then headed back over to the fire, pouring the water over it to put it out. He called back as he went. “Good night.”

  “Night,” she said as she stood next to Liam and tapped on the top of his head. “Come on, buddy. Time for bed.”

  His head lulled over his one arm before he clumsily lifted it up to looked at her. “I’m ok here. See you in the morning,” he mumbled, dropping his head back down.

  “Ok.” She slid her arm around him and yanked him to his feet. The hardest part was getting his skinny legs out from under the table and back over the bench. Eventually she got him upright, staggering. She walked him into the garage and pulled the roll up door down with her free arm. Then she walked him back to the gym, turning all the lights out behind her. When she got back to the server room, she reached into his back pocket to find the small ring of keys. It didn’t take too long to get the right one after trying three of the four on there. Then she half dragged him in and laid him on the mattress. He immediately fell asleep again.

  CHAPTER 21

  Hello and Goodbye

  The first half of the day was rough. Almost all of the Block was out there, helping to prep, build, or repair. Some were tired from the day, and possibly, the night before. Some were just not used to the work and struggled. But by the time lunch came, they had put up the framing for the coop, rebuilt the wall with two boxes of plaster to spare, and had half of the intended field turned over to be planted. The last one was helped a lot thanks to finding a regular metal shovel and a snow shovel in the janitor’s closet downstairs. Even the kids helped. Sunny helped Charlie build the coop, while Ryan took care of the chicks, and Susie and Timmy dug around with the little hand trowels for the field. When Mrs. Tate called for lunch, they were all ready for it.

  Rallied a bit by Anna telling her she was going to be helping outside, Ms. Hahn had baked some rolls for everyone. The flour was being heavily rationed to make it into autumn, so fresh baked goods were going to be about one to two times a month until the end of summer, if they were lucky. Everyone sat against the side wall as they munched their rolls, glasses of water were being passed around, a few dried apple slices to go with it, then they were back to work. Not exactly a feast, but it was enough to get through until dinner.

  “Alright,” Charlie said to the group, absent-mindedly swinging the hammer he held in his hand. “Let’s keep working on that field, alright? We’ve got the roof, walls, and windows to finish. Let’s get to it." He turned back to the little structure they had created, and started to grab for a slab of wood they had pried from the house in the development’s floor when Ryan walked up to him and tugged at his shirt.

  Charlie looked down at him. “Hey, Ry, what's up?"

  The little boy held up a book to him, spread wide open, and started to tap at the page. Charlie squinted down at it and searched for what the kid meant to show him. It was a diagram of a chicken coop from an adult book on farming. He looked at Ryan, and he began to point to a few different labeled spots. Charlie read it out loud as he moved his little finger to each one.

  "Roost. Nesting boxes. Ramp. Are you telling me I forgot these then?" He grinned at the boy who shook his head yes with politeness. "Ok. Then I'm going to need you to go hunting for stuff that we can use for all of these things. Deal?"

  The boy shook his head and then was off, running back into the Block. Jack made his way over from the field where he was removing any rocks that were too big and would hinder the corns growth. They had been taking those and using them to line the g
round under the coop.

  "Keeping you to task, I see," Jack said as he helped Charlie line the wood up on the frame while Mike hammered the nails they had scavenged as they tore down the house for materials.

  "Honestly, he is. I'm not shy to admit I've never built a chicken coop, and I don't know a damn thing about the animals save for they taste good.” They let go of the wood as it was secured at the top, and Mike kept going around the rest of it. "I sent him in to look for anything we could use for… shit, I don't even remember what he just told me we needed."

  Jack laughed. "Well, I'm sure he'll find whatever these chickens are going to need to live their best lives and hopefully give us the most eggs." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper Mac had given him from Nico when she assigning him and Ryan to take care of the chicks. "A roost, ramp, and-"

  "Nesting spot, or whatever. Yeah that's it."

  Jack handed him the little diagram and explanation Nico had put in for purpose and design. Charlie read through it and flipped the paper over seeing there was more. Once he realized they were feeding instructions, he simply handed the paper back and moved to lifting the next piece of ply wood to cover the wall.

  "The roost shouldn't be a problem. We have a few extra two by fours we can throw in somewhere. I guess one could act as a ramp too. Your little guy is going to have to get creative with the nesting things," Charlie told Jack as he helped him again to hold the wood in place.

  "He'll figure it out.” Jack let go when it was up again and wiped his hands on his pants.

  "As long as he can show me what he needs me to do with it, I guess. That's probably going to be the hard part- if it needs explaining."

  "He can write and direct," Jack said defensively.

  "I know, I know," Charlie put up his hands for him to relax. "I'm just saying I'm not as in tune to him as you. It's hard enough for me to understand my own kid, and he talks."

  Jack gave him a slight look of warning. "Well, he's a really smart kid, and he knows what he's doing. Probably more so than us I'm sure."