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Chapter Two
Gillian was standing aboutfifty feet away from my cottage, holding a jar and glancing my way when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. Her hair was blowing wildly, and it was too cold out for the thin sweater she was wearing. It wasn’t clear why she went through this ritual every time she wanted to talk to me, but she’d work her way over here eventually.
I turned to Buddie, who was rocking in the chair next to me on the porch.
“She can’t wait to give me more stuff, can she?” I asked. It wasn’t that these gifts didn’t help me get through, but it was more difficult than I’d imagined to be perpetually on the receiving end.
A cup of morning coffee in his hand, he had no hesitation as he stared at her. “Yep. She’s definitely bringing you another offering.” He went back to sipping his coffee.
“I’m not comfortable taking all these gifts.” I’d tried to re-gift some of them back into the pack. Sort of recycling, so I didn’t feel like such a taker. After getting caught re-gifting a few times, and a few awkward questions, it turned out that was the wrong way to handle things.
Buddie was looking at me, frowning. “You’re thespiritualguide, the bringer of good will and balance and all things right. It makes them feel good to bring you things.” He shrugged.
“But am I?” I kept getting things because that was what everyone believed I was. In reality, I didn’t feel an iota different. I was still the same ole Piper, taking things day by day and hoping to survive until next week.
“Yes. You are.” He dragged his rocker a little closer and whispered, “I’m not sure Jaysa did anything either.”
I should’ve been gasping in alarm, or shock—or something. But knowing Jaysa, it would’ve been more surprising if she had helped anyone.
“Even if she was a user and a fraud, I don’t want to be.” That would not be my legacy.
“Of course not, but you can only do so much.” He went back to sipping and rocking. Not a care in the world because he didn’t have to worry about going down in history as the great faker.
“Do so much?I’m not doing anything. I wake up afraid my muscles are going to atrophy from lack of use.” Well, that wasn’t completely accurate. I did have to go gather wood and other items that were stolen or destroyed. Still, it felt like an easy gig compared to right after Death Day. Back then I was dodging punches and biking miles every day trying to find scraps of food and medicine.
“Your muscles weren’t that impressive to begin with.” Buddie laughed at his joke.
“How have I ended up with you as one of my main friends? There has to be better choices around here, even with the reduction in population. I must not be trying hard enough.” Actually, that wasn’t true. If I steered clear of the people who looked at me like I was a god, or the few who thought I was a plague on their existence, he was it. Yeah, he was one of my best options.
“Look, you should consider yourself more like a therapist, okay?” he said once his laughter died off. He took another sip of coffee. “They like coming and getting things off their chest. You’re providing them a service.”
“Except I have no idea how to do therapy. I could make people feel worse just as easy as feel better.” I was twenty and not delusional enough to think I had that much to offer. It was bad enough worrying if I was messing up Charlie on a daily basis.
“Okay, what about the placebo effect? Your being here makes them feel more at ease. That’s worth something.” His eyebrows were climbing up his forehead as he tried to see if something would catch.
It didn’t. “I don’t want to be a fake drug.”
“Well, I’d get used to it, because the pack is growing and there are going to be even more members looking for their hit of feel-good.” He smiled, knowing exactly how that would make me feel.
I looked past Gillian, to the ever-growing, crowded streets.
“Can we fit in everyone who’s showing up?”
He stared at all the new faces with me, shaking his head. “Not all. We’re going to have to build or do something. We’ll have to work it out either way, because Duncan wants more of our numbers here. It evens out the balance of power with Groza.”
“Why is that an issue?” I asked, knowing my tone gave away my skepticism of their relationship.
“We all know they’re a rocky match-up. What she likes is the idea of him. She’s one of those who has to drive the nicest car on the block, have the biggest and best. Duncan is the male equivalent of a Maserati in her garage. We all have to find our own paths, though.”
Buddie stood, handing me his mug and stretching before he turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” I tried to swallow back the panic of being left alone with one of my spiritual followers, but it surely leaked out anyway.
He tilted his head toward Gillian. “She’s gearing up for her final approach, and she’s going to want to talk to you alone. Plus I took the last cup of coffee, so it’s time to move on. I hope that’s the same blend in that container. Tell her to keep it coming.”
He smiled as he left, depriving me of a couple more minutes of peace.
Gillian swooped in the second Buddie departed.
