47
ATTICUS
“Yens can take back what ya can carry in one trip,” Esra told us in the supply cabin just before dark. “But choose wisely—we like yens and all but we cain’t let ya come back every day; we ain’t a grocery store. Hope ya understand.”
I nodded. “We understand.”
“Thank you,” Thais said.
We stuffed our backpacks with various items—I saved room in mine for three rolls of toilet paper.
“Ah,” said Esra, looking at the toilet paper. “The only thing in the world treated like shit but treasured like gold.”
“You can say that again.” I laughed.
June took down the bottle of shampoo she tried to give Thais when we’d first met; she turned with the help of her cane. “It’s my favorite,” she said, putting the bottle into Thais’ hand. “Remember: just a dime and it’ll last yens.”
Thais smiled, and then wrapped her arms carefully around the old woman’s brittle form.
“And just because Esra says we ain’t no grocery store don’t meant ya cain’t come and visit. We’d come to yens, but might take us a week to get there.”
“I would love to visit,” Thais said with a warm smile. “And if you need anything, just send Jeffrey for us and we’ll be here straightaway.”
“Thank you, dear,” said June.
We stepped outside. I couldn’t forget the dead bodies at the bottom of the bluff.
“You should probably lock this building up,” I told Esra, choking a little on the stench; my eyes watered.
“We always lock it,” said Esra.
“It wasn’t locked when we walked in,” I pointed out.
“That’s because we saw yens a’comin,” Esra explained. “We told Jeffrey to go down and unlock it for ya.”
“Esra cain’t never remember where he left his boots,” June chimed in. “He’d ferget to dress himself in the mornin’ if it wudun’t for me.”
“Oh hush, old woman!”
Esra shuffled past June and stood in front of me then. He reached deep into a pocket of his sagging overalls and dug out a plastic baggie half-full of bullets, and placed them into my hand.
“I cain’t spare no more,” Esra said, “but yens are welcome to ‘em.”
Surprised by Esra’s generosity—it was unheard of to give away two bullets to a stranger, much less a bag full—I just looked at the bag in the palm of my hand for a moment.
“Thank you, Esra,” I finally said. “Thank you very much.” I felt a great sense of relief wash over me now that I had more ammunition for our inevitable travels. “And remember what Thais said,” I added. “If you need our help, we’ll come as soon as we know.” I promptly stuffed the bag of bullets into my pants pocket.
June pointed at Thais’ oversized hiking boots. “How in the world are ya walkin’ in them things, dear? Look like ya could fit two feet in one boot.”
Thais glanced down and shrugged.
“Oh, they’re not so bad,” she said. “It’s either these, or my sandals, and it’s better to wear something that covers my feet when I’m out in the woods.”
I hated those hiking boots—the way Thais sometimes limped when she walked in them never went unnoticed by me.
June leaned over Thais’ boots as far as her cane would allow, and she inspected them.
“Hmm,” she said, “ya look like ya might wear a six?” She raised herself with a painful grunt—Thais reached out to steady her.
“Six and a half,” Thais said.
“Well, I wear a seven,” June said.
She turned to Esra; her long, silvery hair looked like Christmas tinsel under the fading sunlight. “Help me get’ma boots off,” she told Esra, and stuck out her right foot for him.
Thais waved her hands out in front of her, shaking her head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t take your boots, June, I really couldn’t. The ones I have are fine.”
“No they’re not,” I spoke up.
Thais privately glared at me.
“Don’t be silly,” June told Thais. “Ya need better boots, and mine will fit ya. It ain’t the only pair I got.”
Seeing Esra struggle to take off his wife’s shoes, I stepped forward and took over, eager to get Thais into a better-fitting pair. She said she has more, I thought, and it made it that much easier for me to jump right in and help with the process.
“No, really, I couldn’t—.”
Thais lost the argument, took off the hiking boots and traded them for June’s size sevens, black with black laces that crisscrossed the shins. She put on a brand-new pair of socks fresh out of the package from the supply cabin, and then slipped her feet down into her new boots.
“Feel better already, don’t ya?” June said.
Thais took June into another hug; even kissed her wrinkled cheek.
“Be careful!” Esra called out as we started down the dirt path again.
“I come swim on Tuesday!” Jeffrey’s voice carried down from the treehouse. “On Tuesday at six o’clock, okay?!”
We could just barely see him for the height and the canopy of trees, but he was there, waving excitedly at us—well, probably at Thais. Tuesday. Friday. Six o’clock. Eight o’clock. No one knew anymore, but apparently Jeffrey had his own way of keeping track of the days—for all I knew, he might’ve been right.
Thais raised her hand high in the air. “I’ll see you soon, Jeffrey!” she shouted. “I had a great time with you!”
“I build you a house!”
“I can’t wait!”
“I see you Tuesday!”
“Okay, I’ll see you Tuesday! Bye-bye, Jeffrey!”
On our way back to our cabin, I expressed my concern for Jeffrey.
“He won’t be a problem,” Thais assured.
I wasn’t so convinced.
“He won’t hurt me.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.”
She laughed lightly, and looped her arm through mine. “Oh, I’ll keep you safe, my love,” she told me in jest.
You do keep me safe, I thought, and pulled her closer. You save me from myself every day I’m with you.
Aside from the elephant in the woods that was Mark Porter’s body; aside from our heavy conversations about our new friends: June, Esra, and Jeffrey; I thought mostly about the night before. When Thais gave herself to me.
It wasn’t right, I’d told myself. But the words didn’t mean the same thing they once did. I was past the guilt; beyond the burden of regret for what I’d done. But what I regretted now was how it happened. Our first time wasn’t supposed to be that way. It shouldn’t have been about me, healing my wounds, fixing my mistakes—I’m such a fucking bastard. I wanted to make it right, to treat Thais how she deserved to be treated: she deserved to be made love to, not ravaged. And the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.
We entered the dark cabin and unloaded our backpacks.
I’ll make it up to her, I resolved. But not yet…only when she’s ready…
THAIS
I wanted Atticus to make the next move, to be the one for a change. I sat on the floor, watching him sort through our new supplies, wishing he’d look at me, at least. I wanted him, in every way, right then, but he barely ever looked up.
Maybe he’s not interested in me, after all.
A terrible thought occurred then: What if I did it wrong? What if it was something I didn’t do? My face flushed with heat and humiliation when I thought about what had happened. Was Atticus lying about not being bothered by the blood, the same way I had lied to him about not being sore?
ATTICUS
I wanted to make the next move, to be the one for a change—it had always been Thais initiating before. I wanted to be with her in every way, to take her into the bedroom, or right there on the floor, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it because I wasn’t sure if she wanted it, and she wasn’t showing any signs anymore that she did.
Maybe I hurt her too much, and turned her off to ever having sex with me again.
I looked down at the bag of bullets in my hand because I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes.
Then she got up. “I’ll get the candles,” she said, and her shadow followed her down the hallway.
“Okay.”
With a blanket of awkwardness laid over the room, we set everything out on the floor.
“Should’ve taken more toilet paper,” I said, stacking three rolls on top of one another.
Thais smiled.
She set her spice jars side-by-side, the labels facing her.
“You know,” she said, “I have a feeling June and Esra won’t turn us away if we need something else, regardless what they said about not being a grocery store.” She twisted the tin cap from a jar of cinnamon and placed the opening underneath her nose. “We could really help them out, not just in exchange for supplies, of course, but because they’re kind and I would enjoy helping them.”
I studied the print on the packages of MRE’s; there were two years left judging the manufacture dates.
“I’ll help them with whatever they need,” I said, setting one package down and picking up another, “except”—I glanced over—“digging a pond with a shovel.”
Thais cackled.
“I wonder when Tuesday is,” I said a few minutes later.
“I wonder too.” Thais twisted the cap back on a jar and set it beside the others.
“He really likes you.”
THAIS
I blushed.
“Does that worry you?”
I regretted saying it, but it was too late to take it back. How pretentious of me!
“Not at all,” he said; he grinned over at me under hooded eyes. “But if I did have reason to worry, don’t for a second think that because he’s handicapped I wouldn’t compete to win your heart.”
You already have my heart, Atticus…
Worried he could read my mind, my face flushed; I unlaced my boots as a distraction.
“I know we can’t stay here forever,” I said seconds later, “but I wish we could. We have everything we need here: a water source just yards away; this forest is teeming with wildlife—they had heirloom seeds in their stock; did you see them? If we stayed, we could plant a huge garden.” I set my boots on the floor, out of the way. “It’s just unfortunate that we have to leave this place. I mean, not that I’m trying to convince you to stay, because I know we can’t, but it’s amazing to me that June, Esra, and Jeffrey have made it this far.”
“They have to be in their eighties,” Atticus pointed out. “Sure, they’re getting along just fine on their own, but for how long? How much longer until Lexington City finds this place? You know what’ll happen when they do.”
I frowned.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay. You’re right.”
He stood and reached out a hand.
I accepted, and stood to face him; he cupped my elbows in the palms of his hands.
“We’ll stay another week maybe, just long enough to pay June and Esra back for what they gave us. And then it’s time to go.”
I know, Atticus…I know.