Not a Drop to Drink

Twelve

A few days later, the grim specter of the traveler still haunted Lynn. If there were truly people hunting possessions down, her house would be a prime target. The stranger had faded from Lucy’s mind though, her quick, happy thoughts soon overwhelming any reminder of the despair of their world. Lynn’s long sojourns on the roof held no interest for the girl, and the games she’d been playing with Red Dog had lost their appeal.

“Lyyyyyynnnn . . .” Her high-pitched voice carried up to the roof easily in the cool fall air. “I’m booooooorrrred.”

Lynn pulled her eye away from the scope. “Read a book or something.”

“I can’t read on my own, dummy. And all you have is big, stinky poetry books. No pictures.”

“There’s a set of encyclopedias. They’ve got pictures,” Lynn argued, but was answered with what could only be categorized as a butt noise, followed by giggling.

“Can I go see Stebbs?”

“No, you’re not crossing the field alone.”

“Then you come with me.”

Lynn sighed and put the rifle down. Lucy had walked out into the yard far enough that she could see her from the roof. She looked down into the petulant face. “I’ve told you—I can’t leave the pond, especially with what that guy said the other day. There’s people out looking and taking.”

Lynn heard Lucy whacking at some of the dead weeds for a few minutes before heaving a deep sigh. “But I miss Stebbs,” she argued as if they’d never stopped talking. “We haven’t seem him in a looooong time.”

Even though she was exaggerating, Lynn’s brow furrowed. She’d spent most of the last few days on the roof looking out for Lucy while she played, watching the smoke rise from the Streamers’ new home, on alert for threats from the south. She hadn’t been watching for Stebbs, but she hadn’t noticed movement in his direction either. Lynn scoured her memory to see if the familiar red flash of his handkerchief had become so commonplace that she’d ceased to notice it, or if she truly hadn’t seen it in days.

She brought her eye back down to the scope, focusing on Stebbs’ small shelter tucked away in the woods. It was much easier to spot now that the leaves were off the trees, the undergrowth of the woods stripped bare by foraging animals. There was no smoke rising from his building. Lynn set down the rifle and grabbed the binoculars, feeling intrusive as she zeroed in on his house. The binoculars brought it into closer detail and movement grabbed her attention. His front door was banging open and shut in the wind. The wrongness of the image made her stomach drop. Stebbs was so far removed from the road she hadn’t thought to warn him about the stranger’s news of men in trucks.

“Lucy, do you have your good boots on?”

“Yeah.”

Lynn strapped the rifle across her back. “We’re going for a walk.”

The field was difficult to navigate; the frozen clumps of dirt kept tripping Lucy up, and the bleached white skeletons of the coyotes fascinated her. Her endless curiosity brought the expected flow of questions, but Lynn remained silent about the piles of bones. She kept one hand on Lucy, the other resting on the butt of the handgun stuffed in her waistband. She didn’t like being away from the pond, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that Stebbs would never have left his front door open in the winter. Something was wrong, and her newly found conscience wouldn’t let her ignore it.

“All right,” she said to Lucy once they were on the edge of the woods. “I want you to stay here until I say you can come in.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what happened. There could be bad people in there, or . . . or something you shouldn’t see.”

Fear made the little hand clench hers tighter. “Bad people like the ones that took that guy’s shoes?”

“Just like those.”

“Don’t leave me here alone.”

Lynn wrenched her hand away from the girl’s, ignoring the stab of guilt when her lower lip trembled. “You’re safer here. Sit tight. You’ll be able to see me the whole time, and I’ll be able to see you. Once I know it’s safe, you can come on in.”

“Okay,” Lucy said doubtfully, but she sat on the ground.

Lynn approached Stebbs’ shelter warily. She’d never been in his woods. The only houses she’d ever walked into were ones she already knew were empty. Stebbs’ shelter was a converted shed that had still been standing when the ancient brick house that accompanied it had crumbled. Lynn skirted the pile of crumbled bricks as she approached the shed, gun in hand.

She stuck her foot out to stop the door from banging against the side of the building and peered around the door frame. There was no one inside. A small stove rested in the corner, cold and empty. There was a window facing east with a small shelf above it that held one plate, one fork, one spoon, and one cup. That was all. The only luxury Stebbs had was a real bed pressed up against the west wall. It was small, but with a true mattress. Lined up beside the door were three pairs of boots, the right heel worn much lower than the left on all of them. His coat hung limply from a nail by the door.

But Stebbs was not there.

Lynn stuck her head out the door and called for Lucy, who came crashing through the undergrowth. “Where’s he at? Where’s the magic man?”

Lynn sat on the bed, relishing the comfort of the mattress even though her mind was enveloped in worry. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Maybe he went to see my momma and Eli.”

“Maybe,” Lynn said, only to comfort the girl. Dead leaves were skittering around the floor of the shed in the breeze. The door had been open for a few days at least.

Lucy stood on tiptoe to glance onto the shelf above the window. “So where’s his food? Where’s his water?”

“What’s that?”

“We’ve got all our food and water right where we can get it. Where’s his?”

Lynn jumped to her feet and kissed the little girl on the head. “Thanks,” she said. “You’re a genius.”

Lucy’s nose scrunched up. “Huh?”

Lynn swept back the braided rug beside the bed to find a carefully cut trapdoor that opened on well-oiled, silent hinges. A weak voice rose up from the dark depths below.

“I’m flattered you came to check on me.”

The ladder that led down into Stebbs’ underground storage space had broken under his weight when he’d gone to retrieve his supper two days before. His ankle had twisted underneath him badly enough that he couldn’t walk, but he’d been in no real danger. The walls of the little bunker held canned food, vegetables, even a camp toilet. His plan had been to wait until his good ankle supported him well enough to pull himself up through the trapdoor, but Lynn and Lucy were a welcome rescue party. He handed pieces of the broken ladder up to Lynn, who tossed them aside.

“I’ve got plenty of ladders back in the pole barn,” she called into the darkness of the hole. “I’ll go back and get one. We can get you out easy. How long of one do you need?”

Stebbs flicked on the flashlight he’d been carrying with him when he’d fallen. The light swept up the earthen wall so that Lynn could see for herself.

“I’d say what, ten feet?” she called down.

“Should do it,” came the agreement.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, it was just a fall.”

“I’ll be right back, with the ladder,” she called to reassure him. Lucy tugged on her sleeve.

“Can I stay here?”

Lynn looked at her for a second, considering. Lucy’s little nose was red from the frigid air that had bitten at their skin as they crossed the field, her lips chapped.

“Yeah sure, I guess.” Her eyes swept to the cold stove. “Go out into the woods and get kindling, just like at home, okay? When I get back we’ll get a fire started so that it’s warm for Stebbs once we get him up. Don’t go far while you’re looking, though, and don’t do anything stupid like sing.”

Lucy took her instructions seriously; Lynn could hear the little girl moving through the dead brush as she walked away, but just barely. She stifled a flash of pride. “It’s not like she’s yours or anything,” she reminded herself out loud as she crossed the field toward home.

Lynn chose one of her shorter wooden ladders, sawed it off at the right height, and headed back over the field with it across her shoulders, both arms draped through the rungs. She felt awkward and vulnerable. If there was a threat, animal or otherwise, she’d never be able to disentangle her arms from it in time to defend herself. She cast a glance back toward her house and the pond, as she crossed the field. Already they’d been away longer than she was comfortable with.

She called out to Lucy when she approached the house, and the door was opened for her. They slid the ladder down into the hole and Stebbs flicked the light on so they could see as they descended. Lucy insisted on coming down with Lynn, exhilarated at the thought of exploring Stebbs’ hiding place. Stebbs was sitting on the earthen floor, one leg folded under him, the other stretched out straight, with the foot propped on top of a bucket.

“That looks comfortable,” Lynn said, brushing dirt from her front.

He grimaced. “It’s not the best, but it keeps the swelling down.”

“Pretty nice setup you’ve got here,” she said as her gaze swept the room. She could only see within the range of his flashlight, but even in that small area, there was enough canned food to last two winters. She heard a scurrying in one of the dark corners.

“Lucy? That you?”

“Check this out,” the little voice answered, followed by a metallic click, the sound of rushing water and a yelp.

“Lucy! Stop!”

Stebbs shushed her with a hand. “It’s okay,” he said. “Push that handle back down, Lucy.”

Lynn heard the metallic noise again and the sound of running water stopped. Stebbs’ light jumped to the corner where Lucy stood next to spigot, looking sheepish. Lynn grabbed the light from Stebbs and walked over to it, cupping her hand under the mouth to catch a few drips that fell from it. She raised it to her lips. Fresh water. Cold and clear.

“How the hell did you get lucky enough to find a well?”

Stebbs was quiet for a moment, and Lynn switched the light back in his direction. “I witched it,” he finally said.

“Bullshit.” Lynn’s voice came out strong, but the beam of the flashlight shook.

“What’s ‘witched’ mean?” Lucy asked. “Like he really is a magic man?”

Lynn and Stebbs regarded each other quietly before she answered the little girl. “He might as well be.”

They got Stebbs up the ladder and into his bed, with his foot propped under his balled-up coat. Lucy was thirsty, so he gave her the flashlight and his cup off the shelf, and showed her how to close the trapdoor from the inside, as well as how to pull the rug back over it using a string he’d tied to one end that dangled down into the underground room. They could hear her banging around happily underneath them while they looked at each other.

“I always wondered where you got your water,” Lynn said eventually. “I never saw you gathering any.”

“No need to,” he answered. “It’s always right there, fresh and for the taking.”

“How deep is it?”

“I only dug down fifteen feet or so before hitting it. I reinforced the sides before dropping the pipeline but, really, there was no work to it.”

“It ever run dry?”

Stebbs shook his head. “Not once. You know how these veins are though, persnickety as hell. With only one man drawing off it, I do okay. But these same little sources feed places like the creek. You and I both know exactly how dependable that is.”

Still, it was wonderful. His water source was always at arm’s reach and deep enough he had no need to purify for fear of human contamination. Anyone looking at his tiny shelter wouldn’t think he had anything worth taking, unaware that a gold mine lay underneath. Lynn’s large house, outbuildings, and obvious pond made her a constant target.

There was a thump as Lucy lifted the trapdoor and hit the bottom of Stebbs’ bed. His foot jolted and he grimaced in pain, but bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out. “You ready to come up, little one?”

“Yeah.” The flashlight rolled out from underneath the bed, followed by a little hand and wrist. There was plenty of room for her to wiggle out from underneath the trapdoor. Lucy’s face was filthy, her hair covered in cobwebs. “That’s the coolest place ever.”

“That place is a supersecret special place, do you understand?” Lynn said. Lucy nodded solemnly. “If the bad people knew that Stebbs had that place under his house, they would come and take it from him.”

“They’re mean,” Lucy said, making a face.

“Very mean,” Stebbs agreed. “It’s important that you not talk about it, okay? Especially the part about how I can find water.”

“You mean that you’re a witch?”

“Yes, that is a very, very big secret.” Stebbs said, and Lucy looked from him to Lynn, frightened.

“He’s not a witch the way you’re thinking of it, Lucy,” Lynn explained. “He can find water under the ground. It’s called ‘water witching.’”

“There’s water under the ground?”

“Yeah, c’mere.” Stebbs motioned to Lucy and she approached his bed. He held out his chapped hand. Dark blue veins rose prominently over his knucklebones. “See that?” he asked, pointing to them. “There’s veins down under the ground like these that are in our bodies, ’cept they’re full of water, not blood. The ground is like the skin here on our bones, keeps the water down inside. I can find that water without seeing it, and then I dig where it’s at to make a well.”

“How do you do it?”

“Lynn, go outside to that witch hazel and cut me a forked switch.”

“You’re not serious,” she said. “You’re giving a demonstration?”

“The least I can do is provide some entertainment for my rescue party.”

Lynn bit down on her retort and went out in the waning light to cut the switch with her pocketknife. When she came back in, Lucy had three piles of blankets on the floor beside the bed and Stebbs was sitting up. She handed him the forked switch.

“All right now, close your eyes,” Lucy said. “No cheating.”

Stebbs obeyed and Lucy slid the cup of water under the middle blanket. “Ready,” she said, and scurried over beside Lynn to watch.

Stebbs pulled himself to the edge of the bed, held the forked ends of the switch loosely in his hands with his palms up, and swept the other end over the blankets slowly, starting on the right. He’d barely passed over the middle blanket when the stick turned in his hands, jabbing downward at the cup of water hidden underneath.

“Am I right?” Stebbs asked Lucy, even though Lynn could tell from his eyes that he knew he was.

Lucy bolted up from the ground. “That is sooo cool,” she shouted, then pulled the cup of water out from under the blanket to look at it suspiciously. “Can I still drink it?”

“Sure,” Stebbs laughed.

“How do you do that, really? Is it magic?”

“No, nothing like that,” he said. “It’s just something I’m able to do. Sometimes it’s genetic—my grandfather could do it. Some people can just feel water.”

“Lucy, pick up this mess,” Lynn said, pointing to the blankets. She took the switch from Stebbs, forced him to lie back down on the bed and re-propped his foot. “That was stupid,” she said to him. “She was excited enough already, now she’s going to chatter about it forever.”

“Who’s she going to talk to? You? Eli? Her mother? Them knowing doesn’t bother me.”

“But the others? What if they’re watching? What if they overhear her saying something to one of us? What if she slips in front of a stranger one day?”

“I just wanted to make her happy. The kid’s got little enough to smile about.”

“It’s not worth it,” Lynn shot back. “You know what would happen to you if the wrong people found out you can douse? You’d—”

“Hey, guys, look!” Lucy’s cry of joy reverberated inside the small shelter. They turned to see her holding the dousing stick expertly in her upturned palms, the long end pointing emphatically at a bundle of blankets.

Lynn jumped to her feet and yanked the covering away. The little cup of water that had been underneath spilled across the floor. Her gaze met Stebbs’.

“Shit,” he said.

“So I’m a water witch too?” Lucy asked as they crossed the field by the light of the newly risen moon.

“Shut up about that!” Lynn turned in her tracks and thrust a finger in Lucy’s face. “Remember that man on the road, and those men that took his shoes?”

Lucy’s lip quivered as she looked into Lynn’s angry face. “The bad men?”

“Yeah, the bad men. What he had that was worth anything to them, they took. His wood, his food, his gun—right down to his socks—they took everything that meant anything. What you’ve got isn’t something they can just pull out of your hands, and it’s worth more than shoes. You can find water, Lucy. If anyone knew, they’d take—”

“They’d take me,” the little girl said. “Because it’s like I got the water inside me, and they can’t just take it out.”

“Yeah,” Lynn said softly, shoving down the hard spike of fear that had risen in her chest. “They’d take you. Or Stebbs. Either one of you would be worth more than gold, but I don’t think the life you’d be living would be worth shit.” Lynn glanced around the field and readjusted the rifle on her back. “C’mon,” she said tersely, jerking the little girl by the arm. “We’ve been gone too long already. And stop talking.”

Lucy was silent the rest of the way home, and Lynn regretted speaking so harshly to her. Fear had fueled her tone, but there was no way to explain to Lucy the wave of panic that swept over her even in daylight when seconds passed between Lynn calling out and Lucy answering. In the dark field, it felt to Lynn like all predators would see Lucy not only as the easiest target, but Lynn’s weakness as well. She hoped Lucy could feel the affection coursing through her fingers, even though the grip on her tiny wrist was iron.

Lucy gathered courage to speak again once they were both tucked into the warm safety of their own cots. “How bad’s his ankle?”

“What’s that?”

“Stebbs’ foot? He going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Lynn answered. “He’ll be fine. It was just a bad sprain. He couldn’t stand to pull himself up out of the bunker because his other foot is lame.”

“He’ll be okay though? Like to come over and see us again sometime?”

Lynn found herself smiling in the dark; she wasn’t the only one who found Stebbs’ company comforting. “I doubt we can keep him away.”

Lucy was quiet for a moment, but it was a heavy silence. “I bet my grandma coulda fixed his foot up nice.”

Lynn turned in her cot. She could barely make out the pale moon of the little girl’s face on the other side of the basement. “Your grandma?”

“Yeah. She’s a doctor back in the city. Said she’d come and find us, when she could get away. I thought maybe she could fix Stebbs’ foot, make my mommy better, too.”

“Your grandma is a doctor?”

“Yeah, she’s important in the city. Has a big office in the hospital and all that. I got to visit her there once, and I wanted to see the babies but they don’t even let her into that part of the hospital.”

“So she’s not a baby doctor?”

“No, just a sick people doctor.”

“Be nice to have one of those around here.”

“She said she’s coming,” Lucy said quickly as if her saying so would make it true. “Soon as she could get away, she said she’d follow us. She said Neva’s her little girl and she won’t be away from her, no matter what.”

“Follow you how, Lucy? It didn’t seem like you guys even knew where you were going.”

A long silence followed, and when she spoke Lucy’s voice shook. “My dad saw you on the water map.”

“What?” Lynn sat up in her cot, alarm spreading through her body. “What do you mean, a water map? He saw me?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Lucy folded up into the fetal position on her cot. “It’s a bigger secret even than Stebbs and me being witches.”

“No, Lucy,” Lynn said as calmly as possible. “I think you should tell me. I need to know what you’re saying about a water map. This is important.”

“I know it’s important. All the secrets are.”

“Jeez, little girl, how many do you have?”

“A lot!” Lucy’s voice cracked, and she started to cry. “I’ve got a lot of secrets.”

Lynn got out of her cot and headed over to Lucy’s to cradle the little head in her lap, a feral wave of protective instinct overwhelming her at the touch of the tiny skull. “It’s okay, kiddo,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me all of them. But I want to know about this water map.”

“It’s . . .” Lucy wiped the tears from her face while she looked for a way to explain. “Do you know what a computer is?”

“I’ve seen dead ones in some of the houses I’ve been in, never been around one that worked though.”

“Well, all the ones in the city work, and there’s these things up in the sky called stalactites. They take pictures and give them to the computers, so people can see all the land all around. People use the pictures to find water.”

“Like my pond,” Lynn said, a cold finger of fear running down her spine.

“Yeah,” Lucy said, her voice still thick with tears. “They don’t let everybody see those maps though, even in the city. Only soldiers get to look, and even then only the superspecial ones. ’Cause the people who run the city, they don’t want everybody who lives there coming out here to get water for themselves.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause then they won’t pay for it,” Lucy said simply. “But my dad, he said even if they did let all the people know where the water was, nobody would be able to get to it out here because of the crazy hillbillies. He said people were better off paying for it than being shot.”

Lynn ignored the rush of anger. “So how did your dad know about these maps? Was he one of the soldiers allowed to see them?”

“Yeah. Mommy and Daddy got real nervous a while back, right before her belly got big. They started talking a lot after I was supposed to go to sleep. I could hear them through their door. Daddy started sneaking looks at the water maps, to find somewhere for us to go. Then he’d come home and draw it out as best he could, and Uncle Eli would watch. They memorized them, then burned them up.”

“You said your dad saw me?”

There was another reluctant silence. Lynn opened up the door to the stove and threw some wood on the glowing coals. Lucy’s wet face gleamed in the firelight.

“We were supposed to take your house.”

“Excuse me?”

“Daddy said it was a good place.”

“It is a good place,” Lynn said stiffly. “It’s also mine.”

“He didn’t know you were here,” Lucy said, her face scrunching up to cry again. “Daddy didn’t know there were people here.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Lynn crawled back onto the cot with Lucy, and cradled her head once more. “So why didn’t you?”

“We got caught. Daddy got killed, then me and Mommy and Eli got kicked out. Uncle Eli followed the map in his head but when he saw there was someone living at your house, he said he was too weak to take it by farce—”

“Force.”

“Yeah, force. And Mommy just sat down and wouldn’t go anymore.”

Lynn stroked Lucy’s hair and thought for a moment. “Did your grandma see these maps that your dad and Eli memorized?”

“Yeah, she learned them too.”

“It’s possible then, she could find us.”

“You think so?”

“Don’t get your hopes up too far, kid, but maybe.”

Lucy’s eyes were fluttering down toward sleep when Lynn asked her last question. “You said your grandma could fix Stebbs’ foot, and maybe your mother too. What did you mean? What’s wrong with Neva?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy answered slowly. “But when we got arrested, me and Mommy and Daddy, we were sitting in jail and some of the soldiers came and took her away. When they brought her back she looked okay but she was walking funny, like they hurt her somehow. Then she just curled up like I am now and wouldn’t talk to me or Daddy.”

Lucy looked at the fire while she talked, and the flames illuminated her fresh tears. “Mommy would have days like that, before the jail, even. Sometimes she would just say it was a ‘bad day’ and she would have to lie down or not get out of bed at all. Daddy tried to make it a ‘good day,’ but usually Grandma was the only one that could help. It was worse after the soldiers came to the jail. I think maybe whatever those men did to her it’s still hurting. Maybe Grandma can make it better?”

Lynn tightened her grip on the frail little body. “I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”