“Yes, it does. So… do you know where to find the right words, or do you just flip pages hoping to get lucky.”
Tanner looked at me for a second and smiled. “Both.”
I chuckled. “It’s honest. Now…” I sighed out. “Be honest again. Tell me about Simon.”
“He’ll be fine. Kids go into cardiac arrest because of respiratory failure. You get their heart going again, they are fine. Simon actually is doing great.”
“Thank you. And thank you for taking time for Matty.”
“Really?” Tanner asked surprised. “I thought you were angry.”
Quirkily I looked at him. “Why did you think that?”
“You stared at me funny when you saw us. Like you were mad.”
“Mad? No.” I shook my head. “Maybe… envious?”
“Envious?”
“Don’t laugh. But envious that Matty is small enough to curl up on someone’s lap and go to sleep.”
“Anyone is.” Tanner set the Bible to the side, and shifted his body to face me. “If you’d like.” He motioned a hand over his lap.
“No, I couldn’t.” I shook my head.
“You couldn’t… because?” Tanner fished for an explanation.
“I couldn’t because… I couldn’t… are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive. Grab that blanket.” Tanner pointed to the one that covered Matty on the floor.
I reached for the blanket, and scooted closer to Tanner. It felt very awkward at first, tuning sideways and resting my head upon his leg. At best I thought it would last about a minute, then the strange feeling would be too much to handle and I would get back up. But I didn’t. Immediately after Tanner fixed the covers over my shoulder, it was as if I slipped into a comfort zone. Legs curled, nestled perfect in the fold of Tanner’s lap, I felt warm and safe, and not quite so lost.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Yeah. Very.” I saw him pick up The Bible. “Are you sure you don’t mind. I won’t stay like this long.”
“Sleep, Jo. Don’t worry about it. Besides, your body makes a great arm rest.”
I thought he was joking until I felt his arm prop over mine. I smiled and started to close my eyes, but stopped. “Tanner? Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever think about the future? Do you think about what the world will be like?”
“Sure I do,” Tanner answered. “Quite a bit.”
“Well, what do you think?”
“That’s a wide open question.”
“Ok, what do you think will happen to us all?” I asked. “Do you think things are gonna keep falling apart.”
“Honestly?”
“No less.”
“Then being no less than honest, I think…” Tanner reached down and brushed the hair from my face, as he spoke softly, “I think those of us who have survived will have a different outlook on life. And as time moves on, as we rebuild, we will make sure this world is a better place. Much better than it ever was. That’s what I think. No. That’s what I believe. What about you, Jo?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Just have faith,” Tanner said.
Faith.
“Tanner? You said tonight needed words. Did you… did you by chance find any words in the Bible.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Can you read them to me?” I asked. “Something. I need something right now to grab onto.”
Tanner drew silent. “I don’t know if this will help. It’s just… one of my favorites.” He turned a page. “Here.” He began to read, “Whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. When your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow. For when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.” He paused. “In other words, Jo. That which doesn’t break us or kill us…”
I finished his sentence, “Will make us stronger.”
“Exactly,” Tanner said. “Stronger. Strong enough to fight. To go on. To face tomorrow.”
“To make it better.”
“You got it,” Tanner whispered. “And believe me when I say, what a better tomorrow it will be.”
25. Sunshine
The wheels of the garage door rolled upon the tracks with a thunderous roar when Burke lifted it with a vengeance. He wasn’t just inching the sun in, he was blasting us with it. We knew the day before that it wouldn’t be long. Levels had started to fall, and the temperature began to rise.
Nineteen days AB, we were freed from our basement prison. It was a miracle. Even though the information and statistics Tanner had given me indicated how it transpired in other cities, I myself doubted it would occur so quickly.
I was wrong. As if in the snap of a finger, the sky went from dark to light. It was over. When Burke raised that garage door, we found ourselves staring at a bright, white wall. The blinding effect and pain didn’t last long. I wasn’t running or hiding to protect myself, I welcomed the sun and waited with anticipation for my eyes to adjust.
Burke and Craig wore what I called power sunglasses. Thick and black goggles they had stolen from the military. Therefore it made sense that they would see everything first.
“Ah, warmth,” Burke commented it. “Feel it.”
“Ah, bodies.” Craig said, “Smell them.”
“Huh?” Burke quickly looked at Craig.
“Bodies?” I questioned and stepped closer. “As in plural.”
“Bodies.” Craig pointed.
It was difficult to see, but the shape of them came in. Five bodies scattered about the backyard. One of which, clearly was Tammy’s. I turned. “How did they all get here?”
“Fuckin Tanner,” Burke replied. “They probably followed him.
“No,” Craig disagreed. “We were burning wood. We were a smoke signal of life.”
Burke snapped a finger. “Good answer. All right, let’s roll these down the hill. We aren’t gonna be around here much longer anyhow.”
Roll them down the hill? I questioned to myself. Like they were trash. Opting to go back into the shelter where more upbeat and positive things were taking place, I left Craig and Burke to ‘roll’ the bodies on their own.
It was obvious the feel of the shelter had changed. Hope arrived and despair lifted with the nuclear cloud.
The short hall from the garage brought me directly into a sunlight filled kitchen. Dan and Davy had the door open, while they packed things up. Dan spewed forth figures to Davy who wrote them down.
“Inventory again?” I asked.
Davy smiled, “Yeah, we wanna know exactly what we have for when we go to the cabin.”
“Any idea, Jo, what’s stocked at the cabin?” Dan questioned.
“Same stuff.” I shrugged. “More canned goods. The amount, I’m not sure. Why?”
“Just trying to get a grip.” Dan answered. “We were thinking, get everything we can ready to go on the truck, except one five gallon water, and food for lunch and dinner. That should be enough until we leave.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Mom? How are we gonna fit everything and us in the truck?” Davy asked.
“Well, Craig is going out to find another vehicle. We may have to jump start it; but fingers crossed, we’ll get one. If not, we make two trips.” I told him.
From the living room, with struggling words, Rod spoke up “Moving day is going to be a bitch.” He tied a sleeping bag. “Look at all these blankets.” He motioned his hand out. “Are we gonna need all these.”
“I don’t know. Burke said pack them,” I said, “And the clothes too.”
“Yes, we know about the clothes.” Rod nodded. “Nicky is excited about the creek, she said she can’t wait to wash clothes. Go figure.”
“Speaking of Nicky. Are her and Matty…” I pointed backwards.