Not a Drop to Drink

Sixteen

Lynn couldn’t remember a winter that had been so content. The plentiful snowfall meant that there was no need to break the ice on the pond to gather water. When they were thirsty, Lynn and Lucy gathered snow in buckets and warmed it on the stove, or ate it in frozen mouthfuls, after pelting each other with it first.

With the threat from the south removed, Lynn joined Lucy on the ground and showed her the different tracks in the snow. Deer and raccoon, the occasional flying leaps of a squirrel that left a sporadic, clumsy trail. The padded track of the coyotes that had been making appearances again. Lucy learned fast and wanted to know more. Lynn taught her how to distinguish the different birdcalls of the hardier birds that stayed for the winter, and how to make a grunt call with her cupped hands to attract bucks.

Lucy was thriving, her thin arms and legs now stocky with muscle from fighting her way through the snowdrifts in search of her next adventure. Lynn followed her, plowing after the little footprints and warning her off the icy pond on the warmer days. They made the occasional trip to Stebbs’, though it made Lynn anxious to go. Lucy told her no one wanted a pond that was frozen solid, and they agreed to only be gone a little while. Lynn found her worries melting away once in Stebbs’ comforting presence, and they usually stayed long past her time limit.

Eli visited often, making the arduous trek from the stream even on the coldest of days. Lucy would shower him with attention for a while after he showed up, then be distracted by something new, leaving them to talk privately and hold each other’s gloved hands. Eli’s visits were short by necessity. Neva liked some moments alone, but her fear of the wilderness didn’t allow those moments to stretch into hours.

“There’s a fine line between enjoying some alone time and just being downright lonely,” Eli said as they trailed in Lucy’s wake one snowy afternoon.

“Do you think she needs Lucy back?” Lynn asked, even though she wasn’t ready to make the offer. “I don’t want Neva to hate me, but I want what’s best for Lucy.”

“Right now—and I hate to say this—being with Neva is not it,” Eli answered. “She’s not entirely stable. She carries that gun that you gave her inside her bra.”

“That hardly makes her unstable,” Lynn said, letting go of his hand to pat the sidearm she had tucked into her coverall’s pocket. “It’s common sense.”

“Maybe for a girl like you it is, but Neva hadn’t even seen a gun until we got here. Now she sleeps with one?”

Lynn shrugged off his concerns, and they walked quietly hand in hand for a while. “Do you think she’d come over here? Maybe she’d leave the stream now that the men from the south are gone.”

“It’s possible. I can ask.”

“Stebbs says there’s a warm spell coming. Maybe then?”

“Maybe.” Eli squeezed Lynn’s hand and stopped her in her tracks. He held her face in his hands for a moment, tucking stray strands of hair back under her cap. “Can we stop talking about Neva for just a minute?”

Lynn agreed with a smile and leaned forward for her kiss.

A small voice taunted them in the distance. “Lynn and Eli sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Eli turned to her, his voice rolling over the snowdrifts. “Do you even know what that spells, brain wave?”

“Uh . . . I think it spells that you’re in love.”

“Hmm . . .” Eli turned back to Lynn, his hands still on her face. “She might be onto something.”

Lucy popped up beside them. “Can I have hot chocolate?”

“Race ya!” Eli challenged Lucy and they started for the house at a dead run that turned into a rolling ball of clothing when Lucy took him out at the knees. Lynn followed more slowly, noting the muted edges of the drifts. The snow was melting, imperceptibly at first, but it was going. Soon the spring would bring warm temperatures, mud everywhere, and a high water mark in the pond due to runoff.

For the moment, life was good.

Though she knew spring was close, the nights were still long and Lynn’s dreams were not as pleasant as her days. Sleep came easily but didn’t last long. After one nightmare, Lynn woke with Mother on her mind. Lucy’s even breathing filled the room, and she envied the little girl her deep sleep and innocent dreams. She unwrapped her legs from the sheets, pulled her boots and coat on, and silently slipped up the basement stairs and out the back door.

There was no moon. The utter blackness of the outdoors descended upon her and swallowed all her thoughts, leaving her aware only of her surroundings and what could hide in it. She unshouldered her rifle and sat on the stone step, grateful for the familiar worries of something she could control. Lucy’s sleeping form, curled and content, slipped through her mind and she tightened her grip on the rifle, eyes roaming the black expanse of the night.

Her eyes drifted to the south from habit, where a pale glow made the tree line of Stebbs’ woods visible. “What the hell?” Lynn was so taken aback that she spoke aloud, her words trickling away into the night.

She thought for a second that she had worried away the entire night, but the sun wouldn’t be rising in the south, and the glow she saw there wasn’t the natural pink streaks of the morning. It was a sickly yellow, its pale aura reaching only past the stark black of Stebbs treetops, and shedding light no farther.

Lynn studied it with a grim face, her mouth tight. She clicked the rifle safety off, all traces of fatigue stolen from her in a breath. This light was unfamiliar and strange.

Which meant it was dangerous.

Stebbs appeared on the horizon a few days later, his limping trail snaking behind him. Lucy had learned quickly how to spot his track, the telltale drag of his injured foot left an easily distinguishable pattern in the snow. For weeks in the dead of winter, he had created crisscross paths in the snow, making a game for her to find the right one that ended with him, and a bear hug. She ran toward him the second she spotted him, abandoning Lynn to the task of scraping ice off the doorstep alone.

“Melt giving you much trouble?” Stebbs asked when he made it to the house, Lucy tucked safely in the crook of his arm.

“Not bad. I’m tired of the refreezing in the night, though. Lucy fell walking out the door this morning. I can’t have her breaking a leg.”

“No, ’cause then someone would have to carry her around everywhere they went,” Stebbs said to the little girl, who leaned her head against his shoulder and giggled. “What a chore.”

He sat her down and Lucy tugged on his hand. “Come inside and eat with us, and see what I made. Lynn’s teaching me to knit.”

“That a fact?”

“Trying,” Lynn said, swatting the little girl’s backside as she ran past her down the stairs. “This one’s got the patience of a gnat.”

“And Eli’s teaching me to play guitar,” Lucy added.

“Again, trying,” Lynn said to Stebbs, as she tossed wood onto the stove and opened a can of vegetables. Once they were settled and eating, Stebbs brought up his reason for visiting.

“There’s another pack of coyotes in the area.”

“I know,” Lynn said between bites. “We heard them last night.” The frantic yelping of the pack had brought Lucy into Lynn’s cot, her small body quivering in fear.

Lucy took a bite of her corn and looked from Stebbs to Lynn. “I thought you killed them all,” she said.

“Can’t get all of ’em, little one. You’d best play closer to the house for a while,” Stebbs said. Lucy made a face but Lynn knew she would listen. The wild dogs scared the little city girl in a way that other, less obvious dangers didn’t.

“The big one, you know . . .” Stebbs trailed off, watching to see if Lynn caught his meaning. “He’s still out there.”

“You see him?”

“No, but I’ve seen his track.”

Lynn didn’t want to speak about what had happened to Mother in front of Lucy. “Why don’t you run off and see if you can’t find that toad in the pantry?”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “You think he’s still there?”

“I thought I saw him when I went in for the vegetables. Take the flashlight, see if you can catch him.”

Lucy jumped at the chance to use the coveted flashlight and disappeared behind the woolen blanket separating the two rooms. Lynn offered what was left on her plate to Stebbs, having lost her appetite. “You think he’d come up to the house again?”

“Not to be crass, but he’s found food here before. And Lucy would be an easy kill for a pack like the one I heard the other night.”

“I’ll keep her close by,” Lynn assured him. “I hate keeping her inside though. There’s so little daylight as it is and this basement doesn’t let much in.”

“That’s the next bit I wanted to talk to you about,” Stebbs said. “The harsh part of winter is over, and Eli is much more capable than he used to be.”

“I know it,” Lynn said. “And I know what you’re driving at. We talked it over the other day, and he thinks maybe Neva will come here to see Lucy. We thought maybe they could readjust to each other kinda, before she moves over there.”

“Sounds like a good idea. When?”

“We thought next week maybe, once the weather breaks. You said it would be warmer soon?”

“I’m counting on a total melt, then it’ll freeze up again and maybe one or two good snows before winter’s done with us for good.”

Lynn ignored the dropping of her heart at the thought of Lucy leaving her. “After the melt then.” She glanced toward the blanket dividing the two rooms, where Lucy’s voice could be heard calling out for the toad she was looking for. “I saw something to the south, a few nights ago.”

“What was that?”

“There was a glow up in the sky. Kinda like the sun was trying to come up in the wrong place.”

Stebbs’ mouth drew tight and his eyebrows came together. “What color was it?”

“Yellow, I guess. It didn’t look right though, like the yellow of a dandelion or anything like that.”

“More sickly?”

Lynn nodded slowly. “Yeah . . . that’s a good word for it.”

“And you saw it when?”

“Just the other night, when there was no moon. Not since then.”

“You probably wouldn’t, if there was any kind of moon in the sky, it would drown it out.”

“Drown out what?”

“The glow of electricity from a small town or even a group of houses. On a black night it wouldn’t take much to light up the sky.”

Lynn was quiet as Stebbs’ words drilled down inside of her to a place that was even darker than that moonless night had been. “They’re still alive then? The men from the south?”

Stebbs nodded grimly. “If they’ve got generators to make electricity then they’ve got heat, too. No need for fires.”

Lynn closed her eyes against the thought. “Generators, huh? Assholes.”

Lynn found herself bestowing small luxuries on Lucy. A new black button nose for Red Dog, the last cup of hot chocolate, a new pair of striped socks that she had knitted for her on the sly. The night before Neva’s arrival, Lucy stumbled for Lynn’s cot in the dark. Small, cold fingers found her face.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Lynn sighed and pretended to be irritated, but allowed Lucy to climb in beside her. Curled together in the dark, Lynn found the courage to broach the topic she’d been avoiding since Stebbs’ visit.

“So tomorrow’s going to be a big day,” she said.

Lucy’s voice, drowsy and content, hummed against her neck. “Wuzzat?”

“Your mother is coming to see you.”

“Okay.”

“That all you got to say?”

The small shoulders shrugged, and a light snoring soon followed. Lynn wrapped her arms protectively around the small frame. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “I promise.”

Lynn slept in much later than usual, as anxious about facing the day ahead of them as Lucy was. Lucy resisted all attempts to wake her. Lynn had expected resentment, possibly even outright anger toward the mother who had been absent for so long. But the blanket-covered form in the cot was ignoring Lynn completely, presenting her with her back and pretending not to hear when she told her it was time to get up.

“All right, little girl,” Lynn said as she pulled on her knitted cap. “I’m going outside. I might hunt a bit but I’ll stay within sight of the house. Once you get up keep an eye out for Stebbs. He’s coming too, you know.”

No reaction.

“And Uncle Eli.”

No reaction.

“Fine. But when I come back down here I want you up and out of bed, or I will get you up and out of bed, understood?”

The curly blond head on the pillow nodded almost imperceptibly and Lynn stomped up the stairs and out into the late morning air. Dead grass showed in large patches around the yard, and Lynn had to walk a ways from the house to find a clean patch of white snow to freshen her mouth with.

The sporadic, panicked tracks of a rabbit tore across the yard at one point, nearly obliterated by the blundering leaps of the coyote that had chased it. Lynn was in no hurry to force Lucy out of bed to face Neva, so she took her time tracking the two animals, curious to see if the rabbit had managed to escape. A patch of blood a mile from the house told her it hadn’t. Lynn rested under the trees and watched two blue jays bickering. Their harsh voices bounced off the snow, masking the sound of Stebbs’ approach.

“Hey there,” he said, leaning against the tree with her. “Not used to seeing you out alone.”

“Lucy’s back at the house.” Lynn nodded toward the roof in the distance. “I thought I’d give her some time to . . .”

“Think things over?” Stebbs suggested.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Looks like maybe you’re doing the same.”

“Maybe.” Lynn rubbed the stock of her rifle, but the gun didn’t bring the comfort it used to. “Best head back, I suppose.”

Stebbs fell into step beside her and they walked in companionable silence until they reached her pond. “Quite the melt,” he commented. “Your pond’s high. I see you’ve still got ice on the edges though.”

“Can’t skate anymore. Lucy’ll be disappointed.”

“It’ll freeze over again, before the winter’s over.”

Without commenting on it, Lynn noticed that Stebbs was struggling against the snow with his lame leg. She leaned against the house under the cover of a large pine, and he joined her, his breath coming a little faster than usual.

“When you expecting Eli and Neva?”

“Don’t know. He said sometime this afternoon, but I slept in quite a bit and then went out tracking for a while. I imagine they’ll be along soon enough. I told Lucy I’d be in sight of the house. If she wanted to find us, she could have. I told her Neva was coming last night, and she didn’t take it so well.”

“It’s understandable.”

“Yeah well, maybe, but I don’t want Neva bent out of shape about it. Or Lucy mad at me, for that matter.”

“Want me to go down and try?”

“Better hurry,” Lynn said, nodding toward the west, where Eli’s and Neva’s figures could be made out. Stebbs lumbered to his feet and disappeared inside.

Neva broke into the side yard ahead of Eli, poked a finger into the side of the half-melted snowman by the wood cord and smiled. Eli nodded and said something to her, but it was lost in a cry from the basement.

“Shit! Lynn! Get down here!”

The urgency in Stebbs’ voice sent Lynn reeling down the stairs where he was cradling Lucy in his arms, her entire form limp, and her closed eyes red-rimmed with fever. “How long has she been like this?” Lynn stared dumbfounded at the unconscious Lucy. “Lynn!”

“I don’t . . . I don’t know! I thought she was sleeping. I haven’t been back down here since I woke up.”

Two sets of feet pounded down the stairs, and Eli fell forward into the basement, Neva close behind him. “What? What is it?”

Neva’s hands flew to her mouth when she saw Lucy, tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. “Give her to me,” she said.

Stebbs handed her over carefully and Neva cradled the light head against her own dark one, rocking her slowly back and forth. “What happened, baby? What’s wrong?”

There was no answer.

There was a light touch on Lynn’s shoulder. “She’s not . . . not gone, is she?”

“No,” Stebbs answered Eli. “There’s a pulse, but it’s light.”

“What happened? When did she get sick?”

“I don’t know,” Lynn said, her voice shaking. “She crawled into bed with me last night and I thought she was fine, but she didn’t want to get up. . . . Shit, I’m so sorry, Neva. I didn’t know.”

Neva waved away the apology. “Get me a cloth,” she said as she laid Lucy back on the cot. “We’ve got to break this fever.”

Stebbs looked in amazement at his own hands, still hot to the touch from holding Lucy. “She’s burning up.”

His words caused a panic in Lynn’s mind, dredging up memories of bodies without bullet holes strewn across the fields, bodies that the buzzards wouldn’t touch. Cholera burned through people so quickly they died in their tracks, wandering in a haze toward a water source that Mother wouldn’t let them near. One man had veered away from the pond and hailed Mother from the yard. Lynn had clutched onto her tightly, fear of the stranger digging her little fingers deep into Mother’s tanned skin.

He’d begged for water, pleading that he was not ill like the others and would not contaminate the pond. Mother had refused and sent him off with a warning. Hours later he was back, shit streaking his legs and begging for a bullet instead. This time, Mother had granted his request.

Lynn dug her fingers into Stebbs’ coat, her voice a harsh whisper. “It’s not the cholera, is it?”

“No, she always does this,” Neva said, peeling off a layer of warm sleeping clothes from Lucy. “You can’t just get a little fever, can you, baby? You’ve got to go big.” Tears were still sliding down her face, but Neva was moving with purpose. She looked up at her audience. “Move! I need a cold, wet cloth—now. And a thermometer, if you have one.”

Neva’s conviction broke Lynn’s stillness. She shot up the stairs with Eli on her heels. “There’s some washcloths in the bathroom,” she called over her shoulder. “Use the clean water downstairs in the tank.”

“Where are you going?”

“Thermometer,” she answered without bothering to explain why she was running up the staircase. Mother had squirreled away all of Lynn’s baby clothes, blankets, bottles, and—she hoped—baby thermometer as well. She burst into the attic, throwing open lids to steamer trunks and tossing clothes in the air in a frantic search. The objecting screech of a baby toy told her she’d found the right trunk, and Lynn dug to the bottom, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the plastic thermometer.

“Please work,” she said to it, and the digital screen lit up at her touch.

Her heart was beating so hard, she almost didn’t hear the footsteps on the roof. Lynn instinctively dropped down, hand clutched protectively around the thermometer. For a moment there was nothing, only the sound of her own blood pumping through her veins. Then she heard it again.

Someone was on her roof.