“Bailey still has a rash?” she inquired of my youngest brother as she slid the top of the cooler closed.
“Yes, but it’s getting better.”
She pulled the green tin of homemade salve from the shelf. I didn’t know who made the stuff, it wasn’t anyone in our neighborhood, but it worked miracles on Bailey’s diaper rash. It was also great for the cuts my hands often received from fishing and from making the lures and hooks.
“That’s good.” Mrs. Loud put the little green tin in front of me. “Anything else?”
A pair of new shoes would have been fantastic. I looked down at the hole in the top of my shoes and stuck my big toe through it. I wiggled it back and forth as I debated her question. I could probably get another couple of weeks out of the shoes if I had to and Gage really could use a new pair of pants. He was growing so fast it was almost impossible to keep him clothed.
“I could use some new pants for Gage,” I finally said.
“Another growth spurt?” Mrs. Loud asked. “He’s going to be taller than everyone in town.”
“He is,” I agreed.
Beside me, Lisa picked up one of the shell necklaces on the counter and ran it between her fingers. Not many people traded for the necklaces, but they were pretty, and they helped to keep Josie, the young widow woman down the street busy. I lifted my hand to the pink and white shells around my neck. None of them were bigger than a nickel, but they were all polished until they shone. Josie had given it to me a few months ago when I’d stopped by with some fish for her.
“I’ll add a couple of inches onto his last measurement and have the pants made up for you within the next couple of days,” Mrs. Loud said.
“Thanks, Mrs. Loud. I’ll see you later today.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I nudged Lisa toward the door. She looked up at me and blinked, pulled from her thoughts by my prodding. Releasing the necklace, Lisa gave Mrs. Loud a smile before we returned outside again. She walked with me down the street toward the small Cape house I shared with my mother and two brothers.
“I should get to work,” Lisa said and waved toward the garden. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“Sounds good.”
She smiled at me, glanced at my sagging, blue house, and squeezed my arm. Feeling as if I were carrying a hundred fish on my shoulder instead of two, I walked up the cracked walkway to the faded gray door with my shoulders hunched. I stopped myself from knocking on the door before entering; it was my home, but it had never felt like such to me.
CHAPTER 3
River
Twisting the knob, I pushed the door open and stepped into the shadowed interior of the house. From the room on my left, I could hear the drone of the TV. I stepped into the room to find my mother in her customary spot in the armchair. Tufts of yellow stuffing poked through the worn brown fabric. She had to sit on two pillows as the springs had busted out of the seat years ago.
Her blonde hair waved around her face. A face that had once been pretty, but the bitterness of her soul had made it impossible for me to see any prettiness in her. Dark circles and bags lined her watery blue eyes. She was smaller than I was at five foot two with a slender build. I was almost five-nine with an athletic build honed by years of walking, fishing, and working outside.
Her mouth was always pursed, and in my twenty-two years, I’d rarely seen her smile. There may have been a few smiles before my stepfather, Gage’s dad, had taken off after Gage’s birth; there had been less after.
I’m not sure if she knew who Bailey’s father was, I certainly didn’t, nor had I ever known my own father. The only thing I’d ever been told about my father was that he was a bastard she’d met while in high school and he’d been passing through town. I didn’t know his name. He’d left her when he found out she was pregnant and had never been heard from again. I’d once seen a picture of him—there was no denying my resemblance to the man—but she didn’t know I’d ever seen it.
She called him the prick, and throughout most of my life, she’d referred to me as a bastard, useless, or the evil being who had ruined her life, which was fine by me. I didn’t think much of her either. I would think even less of her than I did, but she had at least succeeded in creating Gage and Bailey, and they were the lights in my life.
My mother glanced at me before focusing on the TV again. Despite her hair being a stringy, unwashed mess around her face and her near constant frown, she looked untouched by the years with her smooth, wrinkle-free skin.
“Did you eat?” I asked her.
She didn’t bother to acknowledge me as she listened to the news anchor drone on. She could sit there for days listening to these reports and being completely useless. I had no idea how she could tolerate it as only two TV channels came through anymore, both of which were news stations that reported from close to the wall and said the same things over and over again.
After the war, the government had taken control of all utilities and media, dealing out electricity and news amongst the surviving states and towns. Bills no longer came, taxes had ceased, but somehow the government kept some things running. It may not be smooth, but it worked, for now.
Looking at the man on the screen, I saw the wall in the distance over his shoulders. He was positioned in front of one of the better built sections of the wall, instead of one of the more haphazardly tossed together parts constructed of whatever debris could be found to create it at the time.
I’d come to realize most of the news reports came from the better-built sections of concrete stretching high into the sky. Probably to make everyone think everything was completely under control.
I tried to believe that, but I didn’t understand why the wall had been built in the first place. What was in the middle of our country they were so afraid of us seeing, or were they afraid of it reaching us? Had the nuclear attacks created hideous monsters on the other side? The frightening possibility might not be too far off.
