PENNY’S POV
The room I wake up in is pitch black. The only noise I can hear is my heartbeat and the traffic on the street below our Chicago hotel. My stomach hurts, so I sit up and wrap my arms around myself. At my right, Wooton shifts in his sleep. I take a long breath and decide to step outside onto the balcony. I bring my blanket with me, but the air still bites at me and makes me shiver. At least I can breathe a little easier out here. My mind is heavy. I keep seeing the words from that email. In about three months we’ll be forced to stay inside our homes at all times. There are exceptions, of course. That was a pretty short list. I just want to be back in Odyssey. Back in our house where we’re safe. The screen door rolls open and Wooton steps out with his eyes half open and his hair half flattened. He’s not wearing a shirt, but he’s trying to wrap himself in a blanket.
“Penny?”
“Sorry, I tried not to wake you up.”
“Hm. I don’t mind,” he wraps his arms around my waist, “I’m worried about you,” he kisses my cheek.
“I know.”
“We’re gonna be okay.”
“I know. We have… a lot of money,” I sniff.
“Yes. That’s true. And we can use that to help people.”
I turn around to face him.
“Help people?”
“I was thinking about the Meltsners. I know they’re struggling. We should help them out more. Eugene probably won’t get much income from Whit’s End anymore.”
“Okay.”
“So… we can decide how much later, yeah?”
“And decide if we’re going to start giving them more.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Alright, I’m gonna head back to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
I nod as he kisses my cheek again and goes back inside.
WOOTON’S POV
I don’t really like silence. It makes me anxious.
I adjust my grip on the steering wheel. In front of my car is the road, which is underneath a whitish-gray sky. On either side of the highway are bare trees with slender branches. They look like sleeping monsters. Maybe they’re avoiding the cold. Maybe they’re avoiding the silence.
I glance at the inside rearview mirror. Some of it is full of my orange hair. I impulsively slip it behind my ear. When I do, I can see Winnie. Her very similar curls are like a pillow under her drooping head. She’s been asleep since we left the city about an hour ago. I can’t help but shake my head a little. I should have stayed outside longer last night. I think that’s why Penny isn’t talking to me. And I know she knows how much I hate it. She’s scrolling through her phone. She’s waiting for an apology.
“Penny?”
“Uhuh.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Okay… well, I think I hurt your feelings, right?”
“You did.”
“Will you let me apologize?”
“I suppose.”
She turns off her phone.
“I’m sorry, hun. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you didn’t have a say in our money. And I think I made you feel like our family isn’t important.”
She nods slightly.
“Penny, I should have started with this,” I put my hand on her thigh, “Our family comes first. You and Winnie will always come first. Always.”
“Okay.”
“You believe me?”
“Yeah.”
We both take a heavy breath that ends with my wife taking my hand and quickly kissing the back of it.
“I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I felt,” she says, “I’m just scared. Wooton, I’m really scared.”
I tighten my grasp on her hand and her chest jumps at a sob. She controls it.
“I hate feeling like I don’t belong anywhere. I hate being rich, but I’m afraid of being poor. And- and you just keep talking about how much money we should give away to people, and I know we have enough, but I keep feeling like we don’t. And I don’t want to feel helpless. But I can’t turn to you for help. Like, this isn’t my student loan debt, Wooton, this is our child’s freedom!”
“I know. I know that.”
“Then why don’t you care!” She sobs again. She knows it’s a low blow as soon as she says it. Vulnerability has never been my strong suit. She knows that.
Winnie rubs her eyes.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” I whisper. She nods. I put my hand back on the steering wheel, and she pats away her tears.
PENNY’S POV
We get home at 3:17 in the afternoon, but it feels more like midnight. I didn't go back to sleep last night. My stomach has hurt all day. I roll my suitcase into the living room and slump onto the couch. Wooton went back to the car to get Winnie’s suitcase. She’s by the TV.
“What are you gonna watch?” I ask.
“Princess Wars,” she sighs and clicks the remote to turn on the television. I close my eyes and hear Wooton roll in the rest of the suitcases.
“We can take care of these later.”
I nod and open my eyes. I’m staring at our yellow and blue ceiling. It’s the ceiling that I have a feeling I’ll be staring at for a quite a long time come February.
“You feelin’ okay?”
“I don’t know.”
I haven’t taken my eyes off the inside of our roof.
“Do you want to finish our conversation?”
“I guess,” I shrug.
I follow Wooton upstairs where he shuts the door. I sit on the bed and start staring at the floor. My husband stays at the doorway for a while. I know he’s trying to read me.
“What are you afraid of, Penny?”
We make eye contact.
“I don’t know. I mean, I told you. I don’t like… feeling out of control.”
“Yeah.”
“And… I’m afraid of something happening to you or Winnie.”
He nods slowly.
“I see what people say online, Wooton. They don’t think we should be parents. They… I’ve seen the posts… there are people who want you to die. Wooton-” I sniff as my breath is caught, “What if someone hurts you? What if someone hurts our daughter? I-” a sob interrupts, “I can’t take care of her without you. I’m a bad mom,” I squeak, and can’t make any more sentences. The tears flow and my hand against my mouth isn’t enough to make myself silent.
Wooton sits next to me. I put my head on his shoulder, and he kisses it.
“You are a fantastic mom,” he whispers, “And I will keep myself safe. And I’m gonna keep you safe.”
“I know you’ll try. But I also know it’s bad for you to be away from people. I’m concerned you’ll end up in a bad place. Mentally.”
“I know. But that’s why I have medication. And I’ll see a counsellor for the next couple months, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Hey, we’re gonna be alright. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We sit there for a little while. It is good to be together.
“We should definitely help out Eugene,” I murmur.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
BUCK’S POV
“Jules?”
“We’re in here!”
I set my guitar in the entryway and walk into our little kitchen.
“Daddy!” Levi jumps off his bar stool into my arms.
“Hey bud! How was your day?”
“Mommy and I made cookies.”
“Oh. Yeah lots of them it looks like,” I chuckle, eyeing the five containers that are sitting by the refrigerator.
“Yeah… so we might have gotten carried away,” Jules smiles, “It was something to do instead of watch TV.”
“Got it.”
Levi pats my chest, which I know means he wants down. He saunters over to the counter.
“It’s cookie time!”
Jules and I both have the instinct to stop him, and then we both don’t. I watch him reach up and open the plastic bin to get out two sugar cookies as Jules puts her hand at my waist.
“I needed a day to process everything.”
“I get that. And I’m glad you took it,” I kiss her.
“Ew get a room!” Levi growls through a mouthful of cookie. We giggle at him.
“How was the meeting?” Jules asks.
“Honestly, not the most productive. Everyone’s pretty distracted. You probably had the right idea.”
“Maybe, but I do want to get a new album out before we go into lockdown. We’ll figure things out.”
“Yeah.”
That sentence held more weight than I think she expected it to. The only sound in our kitchen is Levi, who’s now jumping between the carpet in the living room and the wood floor in the kitchen, and my wife and I’s very loud eye contact. We have a lot of things to figure out. We both know we don’t have time.
“I think tonight will be good,” she says.
“Yeah. Probably.”
“I’ll um. I’ll go get ready, then.”
“Okay. Oh, and Dion and Grady can watch Levi tonight.”
“Oh good. Alright, I’ll just need fifteen minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
She goes to our bedroom, and I get Levi’s shoes out of the closet.
“Hey, Levi, can you come get your shoes on?”
He groans.
“I’m not done with my cookie yet!”
“That looks like about one more bite. Finish up and then you can put them on.”
He puts the last bite in his mouth and his eyes light up.
“Am I going to Mr. Dion’s house?”
“Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry.”
“Thanks. Yeah, you’re going to Mr. Dion’s.”
“Woo hoo!” He throws both arms up in the air. I laugh.
“Okay let’s get your shoes on then.”
He plops onto the floor and scoots over to me. I sit down with him and hand him the velcro tennis shoes.
“Do you like my socks, Dad?”
He’s wearing dinosaur socks.
“Those are awesome.”
“Mom got ‘em for me today.”
“That’s- great.”
He finishes putting on his shoes and then stands up and starts stomping to make them light up.
“Not I’m REALLY like a dinosaur!” He roars, storming around the kitchen.
“Hey, Mr. Dinosaur, what do you want to bring with you?”
“My Captain Absolutely action figures, duh!”
“Okay, pick out three to bring with you.”
“Can I bring some cookies too?” He asks, running to his bedroom.
“N- One. You can bring one cookie, okay? But don’t let them give you any other desserts!”
He pokes his head out of the doorway.
“Not even M&Ms on my popcorn?”
“That… that can be up to them, okay?”
“Fine,” he trudges back into his room.
“Alright. I’m ready to go when you are,” Jules says, coming back into the kitchen. She’s wearing a sweater and jeans, and her hair is in two braids.
“Yeah we just gotta wait for Levi. He’s getting his action figures. You look beautiful.”
The compliment catches her off-guard as she’s putting on her boots. She gives me a full smile,
“Thanks. Oh, quick,” she stands up with one boot on and kisses me. And I don’t know how, but it sort of stops time. The moment slowly sheds my anxiety. Because this is consistency, with her arms around my neck and my hands at her hips. It’s the first thing that’s made sense in the last week. I think she feels it too, because even after Levi comes in and calls us love birds she puts her forehead to my shoulder a moment then gives my neck a discreet peck.
“Alright, kiddo,” she claps, “Let me put on one more shoe.”
“Mom, you’re so slow.”
She laughs and sits back on the couch.
“Watch your tone, son. How about you hop in the car?”
“Okay.”
He takes the keys from my hand and heads out the door. I let him close it and Jules put on her other shoe before saying anything. But then no words come to mind.
“We really haven’t…” her sentence trails off.
“I kinda thought it might make me more anxious. I’m really sorry, Jules. I’ve been in my head this week-”
“No so have I. That can’t be healthy, right?”
I nod, slowly.
She’s silent for a moment, and then stands up and walks to Levi’s room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting him a change of clothes and a toothbrush!”
I smile.
“I’ll text Dion.”
Eugene and Katrina are already sitting at a table when we get to Hal’s Diner. They both look tired. Jules and I sit in the chairs across from them.
“Have you ordered yet?”
“Yeah, I just asked for everyone’s usual, is that okay?”
“That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”
“Oh and we’re buying dessert,” Jules adds, “I need boston creme pie if we’re going to be talking about money.”
“Jules, I could not agree more. However, we may have come up with a solution,” Eugene raises an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Well, at this point, Whit’s End is probably our least expensive option,” Katrina says.
“Wait, but we’d still have to pay for rent, right? I mean… are you saying we should completely move out of our apartments?”
“Yes.”
It’s sort of a slap in the face. We started talking about moving into Whit’s End as soon as we got the email, but to be honest, I didn’t really expect it to be our best bet. We sit in silence, just trying to process it all.
“No, that can’t be right,” Jules mumbles, “Isn’t… we’d have to pay for utilities.”
Eugene explains,
“Well, no. We don’t. I spoke with Mr. Whittaker yesterday, and he gave Connie and I access to his bank account. We can keep the shop open for years.”
My jaw drops.
“Seriously?”
He nods.
Jules and I take a breath. We know he’s right then. We should stop renting.
“There’s sort of more,” Katrina begins, ‘Whit’s End is huge.”
“Oh yeah, all of Smallpox at least could fit,” Jules shakes her head, staring at the table.
“Right.”
“Then, that’s it? We find online jobs or… I guess... make more music, and everyone lives together?”
Katrina nods. She’s been quiet. We make eye contact and I can see how red her eyes are.
“You okay?”
She shrugs.
“It’s just been hard to process,” she sniffs back a sob and dabs her eyes with her napkin. Eugene puts his hand on her back.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
Zelda comes over and quickly sets down our food.
“Everything look alright?”
We nod and thank her.
“I’m sorry-” she pauses, “I sorta overheard. I- Well I think we’re all feelin’ a little anxious right now. Don’t bottle it up for too long.”
Katrina smiles a bit,
“Alright.”
“Just long enough to eat those squash tacos.”
Katrina sniffs and laughs a little,
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll be praying for y’all.”
“Thanks, Zelda.”
“Alright,” Katrina takes a breath and a drink of water, “Um. Let’s figure out sleeping arrangements.”
We spend the rest of dinner going over the Whit’s End blueprints that Eugene brought, deciding what changes we’ll have to make to the building itself and what living with a bunch of people would actually look like. Making plans made everyone feel a little better. It also helps that we have three months to finish everything. And as we drive home, I almost feel hopeful.
ELIZA’S POV
“Remind me again why we’re going to a park,” Wyatt asks.
He’s in the driver's seat of my dad’s back up car that he bought last week. It smells like cigarettes. I adjust the collar on my jean jacket and roll my eyes.
“That’s where we usually hang out.”
“Yeah, but why?” He laughs, “You and your friends couldn’t go somewhere more fun?”
“McAllister Park is fun. It’s… pretty.”
“It’s also… COLD.”
“You’re ridiculous. You know most guys like to prove how tough they are by being in the cold.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not! Michael usually wears a t-shirt and just brings a blanket for when it gets really cold.”
“There’s snow on the ground. I consider this really cold.”
“Well you’ll be happy to know that we usually sit around the campfire.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that? That’s like- yeah that’s like normal teenager stuff.”
“Well I’m glad we meet your standards. We’ll probably end up going to the Shaltanis’ for snacks and a movie too.”
“Sweet. You’re sure it won’t be weird with me there?”
“Stop saying that! I told you, Stephany is your age, and we’re all really extraverted people. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Alright.”
It’s been about a month since we heard about the new lock-down stuff. I don’t think about it most days. At least I don’t try to. Hanging out with friends kinda makes it hard not to though. We don’t know how long the government will want to keep us indoors, so aside from a few video call chats a week, I might not be able to see my friends for “up to two years.” I don’t think my dad thinks it’ll be that long. He won’t say it out loud, but I’m pretty sure he expects us to be put into camps at some point before then.
Sitting in the car, goosebumps run up my back. I turn up the heating and take in a long breath. I really want to be with my friends.
I don’t have to wait long. Wyatt pulls into the parking lot by the bon-fire pit, and Kodi and Quinn start climbing up the small hill of snow to meet us. Wyatt stops the car and we both step out into the still winter afternoon.
WYATT’S POV
I’m not very experienced with friendships, and my stomach turns to remind me of this fact. I push up my glasses and pull my coat tighter around myself, still baffled by how these kids can function outside in the dead of winter. I lock Eugene’s car and put the keys in my pocket.
I make a mental note of where they are. I’ve felt a little like a bull in a china shop since moving in with the Meltsners. I’m the second tallest person in the house and eat more than everyone else. My room is always messier than Eliza’s, even though I try really hard to keep it clean. And even though Eugene got this car a week ago, I’m using it almost every day to get to work and back. Frankly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m even going to work if we’re moving into Whit’s End. Maybe there’s a part of my brain that thinks I’ll be able to save up enough for an apartment or maybe I’ll get a job online or maybe this whole thing will go away. I can see it now, the president getting up in front of everyone saying,
“Haha! It was all a joke to scare you! You actually DO deserve freedom and equality.”
That’s the other thing I’ve been working on. I keep reading the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, trying to figure out a way around all of this. I know it’s frivolous, but I would feel weird to not try. I’m a research kind of person. I want to know as much as I can. Jason’s told me a little more than he’s told most people I think. I don’t want to think about all of that though. Especially since most of it invalidates my research. Government people are at a different level of understanding when it comes to those things.
Elizabeth introduces me to her friends after hugging both of them and making a couple inside jokes that I smile politely at.
“So, Wyatt, this is Kodi, she’s seventeen.”
“Nice to meet you, Wyatt,” she smiles, extending her hand.
I smile and shake it,
“You too.”
This is an easy to read person. Kodi is first of all attractive. She has thick dark hair, blue eyes, and soft, prominent facial features. I can tell she gains a lot of confidence from her appearance. I can’t blame her. And based on her small giggle and eye-roll, I don’t think she blames me for blushing at her touch. She’s a Christian.
“Okay, and this is Quinn,” Eliza gestures, “They’re the baby of the group.”
“Woah. Calm down, Liz. I’m fourteen. And you’re fifteen.”
“Right, so you’re the youngest. We protect them at all cost. You hurt this child, I will hurt you more. They’re also my best friend,” Eliza beams, putting her arm around them and holding her head high. Quinn brushes it off and shakes my hand.
“I am small but feisty and I can take care of myself.”
I laugh,
“It’s good to meet you.”
` Quinn has the same hair as their sister, but it’s short and sort of spiked up in the front. They have glasses and seem a little less sure of themselves, but their spunk and clean, clearly expensive clothing style make up for it. Quinn is not a Christian.
They both have several layers of jackets on.
“Oh my gosh is this Wyatt?”
Who I assume is Stephany waddle-runs over to meet us, carrying a bag of marshmallows and chocolate bars. Her brother Michael is close behind. Stephany has curly reddish-blonde hair and Michael has curly black hair. I can already tell their polar opposites and not just in skin tone. Michael’s scrolling through his phone.
Elizabeth makes more introductions.
“Eliza has literally told us so much about you, it’s almost unreal that you’re here right now. And let me just say, this soft boy look: adorable.”
I chuckle.
“Thank you. Everything’s thrifted.”
She gasps, glancing at my ankles. She slowly lifts a couple finger guns. I hold up some silent peace signs and laugh out loud.
“Okay what on earth was that?” Michael is taking a break from staring at his phone to stare at us.
“Just some bisexual gang signs. You wouldn’t understand. Have you been to Ben’s Racks?” She turns back to me.
“Yes! I’ve honestly stopped going shopping anywhere else.”
We end up sitting at the fire that Quinn and Kodi had started before we got there, and I’m surprised to find that I don’t regret coming. We play a few games and eat s’mores and just talk about teenager stuff. They embody escapism at its finest- this group of quirky, energetic youth. It’s a foreign culture. No one looks at the news. No one talks about terrorism or death or concentration camps or the constitution or computers. It’s innocence and wisdom. And I fall in love with these people immediately. What made me think before that I shouldn’t have friends?
ELIZA’S POV
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
I fistbump Wyatt in the arm. We’re in the kitchen refilling our soda cups. Everyone else is in the living room watching Inside Out.
“About what?” He takes a sip of rootbeer.
“Coming to this. You’ve had fun, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. Yes it’s actually been great. Still not a fan of the cold though.”
“Eh you’ll get used to it,” I shrug, pouring Dr. Pepper into my plastic cup.
“Oh does that mean I’m officially a part of your little friend group?”
“Yep. You’re stuck with us now. Congratulations.”
He taps my cup with his.
“Cheers.”
We go back into the living room and finish the movie with everyone. By the time we get our food and drinks cleaned up it’s six.
“Alright Elizabeth, we better head out,” Wyatt nods to the door.
“Oh yep you’re right. We have that meeting thing.”
Stephany’s phone starts ringing and we all kind of stand there while she answers.
“Hey what’s up?... Yeah we’re just at the Shaltanis’. Oh- okay. Sure but… seriously? Okay. Sure we’ll head over.”
She hangs up.
“We’re… following you there I guess. Apparently Eugene and Katrina have been talking to our parents about moving into Whit’s End.”
“Wait really?” I know it’s a loss for them, but I can’t help but get excited.
“Yeah,” she half smiles, glancing at her phone, “Kodi, they said you could come too.”
She’s caught off guard and almost says something and then looks at Quinn. Quinn sort of shrugs as if to tell her it’s okay. She nods hesitantly.
“Okay. Alright I think that’s a good idea. Let me just… tell my moms.”
She holds off her steps a moment, then walks upstairs.
“We’ll uh… we’ll see you there then,” Wyatt nods a goodbye to everyone, and I follow him out. We’re both silent for the first five minutes of the drive. Wyatt releases a long breath,
“I just feel awful for her.”
I nod.
“Yeah it’s… that’s been hard for her- I mean it’s been hard for the family.”
“I’m sure.”
And that’s all we say about it. Probably because we both know what it feels like to some extent. And we both know there’s no easy solution to these kinds of problems.
We’re the last ones to arrive at Whit’s End. The seating area is full of all the Smallpox members, the Lewis family, and mine and Stephany’s parents, who are having a quiet conversation in the corner booth. Everyone else is engaged in their own conversations. It’s sort of intimidating for some reason. Maybe it’s the idea of living with everyone. Maybe it’s the realization that I’ve seen most of these people on my phone more than I have in real life. Everyone is either excited or really tense. It’s hard to tell conversation to conversation. Dad sees us come in and offers us drinks. He says he opened the soda fountain for the meeting. I shrug, saying I can never have too much coke. Wyatt says my diabetes would disagree, and gets another rootbeer. By the time we get our drinks and sit down, Stephany, Kodi, and Michael walk in. We invite them to join us, and they do. They’re all pretty quiet. I wonder if they had a difficult conversation on the drive over. Stephany and Michael have been trying to get Kodi to share the gospel with her family for the last several months, and she’s sort of refused. I know it’s not because she doesn’t want them to come to Jesus, and I think Steph and Michael know that too. The last time she explained it to me was something along the lines of,
“I don’t want to cause tension.”
Stephany and Michael have always been “speak the truth in love” kind of people. Stephany’s zeal has backed off a little lately, but Michael seems pretty firm in his political and social views. If they did have a conversation, the tension was probably between him and Kodi.
The three slide into our booth with Stephany on the end.
“So this will be really weird,” I say.
They nod.
“Do you think we’ll live in the same room as our parents?” Michael asks, “I was kinda thinking maybe we could have a separate teenager room.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Wyatt nods, “You should tell Eugene.”
“Alright.”
Dad taps a glass until everyone is looking at him.
“Ah. Well, thank you for your attention. Greetings and salutations. In these unprecedented times, I humbly make the argument that communication is an important -if not a vital- piece of the coping process. Hence, your presence. As of now, we have created a sleep arrangement chart. This separates families into around one room each, with the exception of the Train room, which will be shared by Buck, Jules, Levi, and all of our teenagers.”
Our booth perks up at this news.
“There is also a list of revisions that need to be made to the building itself before we move in. Beside each task is some blank space. If you wish to volunteer, or have some ideas that might help with a specific project, please write your name, or those ideas in said space. Are there any questions before Buck goes over the specific sleeping arrangements?”
No one raises their hands, so my brother stands up with a white sheet of paper in hand that looks like he’s scribbled and erased everything from it about twenty times. He goes over where everyone else will be staying. I kind of zone out for this and end up staring at my coke. Maybe I’m avoiding thinking about all of these changes. They feel really sudden. The rest of my booth probably feels the same way. Michael has his head down, scrolling through instagram. Stephany is tearing up a straw rapper, and Wyatt is staring at the wall on the other side of the room, slightly moving his lips like he’s trying to finish a math problem. Someone’s arguing with Buck about where they want to sleep, and someone else says something to contract them. Someone insults another person. None of us are phased. And I look back at my coke, but I’m not thirsty anymore.
JASON’S POV
I walk into Whit’s End feeling like a criminal. I heard from Wyatt that a lot of people are moving in when restrictions begin. I know I shouldn’t move in with them, and I already feel this isolation process begin. Soon I won’t be seen as one of them at all, and not because of my bad decisions, but because of my status. Connie is smiling with a pen in her hand, writing something in a notebook in front of a booth of teenagers. Wyatt’s the first one to see me. Connie’s eyes follow suit and they quickly jump to the clock on her wrist and toward the Kidz Radio studio. She gives the kids a small smile,
“Just write down whatever comes to mind. Eugene won’t admit how big our budget is.”
She walks past me,
“Let’s get this over with.”
I follow her into the studio where she sits down at her usual desk in front of her microphone and silently starts setting things up. I sit across from her at the other desk and put on the pair of headphones. I can sense her fury and decide to evade it by going over the notes in my phone. They all look good. I know she’s done setting up. I cough into my fist.
“We have five minutes.”
I glance up to see her go red. She stands up and taps the table,
“Enough time to get some water.”
“Okay I’ll-”
“I’ll bring you one!”
She leaves me alone in this strange brown room. I feel like it’s even judging me. I accept this judgement fully. I know I deserve it, and if my brain is going to haunt me by giving walls amphomorphic qualities, so be it. The four minutes I’m alone feel more like fifteen. Connie finally returns and sets a sweating water bottle in front of me. I whisper a thank you.
She clicks on the glowing red recording sign.
“Hi everybody and welcome to Candid Conversations with Connie! I hope you are all doing well and finding peace in these difficult times! Today I have a special guest who I think can shed some light on some of those more difficult questions that the internet can’t answer. Whit’s End’s very own Jason Whittaker. How are you today, Jason?”
“I’m doing well, Connie. Thank you for having me on the show. As someone who worked for the CIA for over twenty years, I think I should be able to interpret some of these complicated phrases in the new restrictions.”
I’m gonna need that water sooner than I thought.
“That’s great,” there is murder in this women’s eyes I swear, “Let’s start off this conversation with some questions from our listeners. Calls are already showing up. She clicks one of them.
“Hello caller, you are on the air.”
“Hi! My name is Jessica. I’m a busy mom of three from Connellsville. Since we’ll have to go into quarantine in the middle of the school year, I’m still a bit confused as to how much of a role I’m supposed to have in my children’s education as they learn online at home.”
I grossly underestimated these questions. I have an answer. It’s not a hard question. But I can’t give her the answer I want to. I should be telling her that she should unenroll her children in the public school system and teach them completely herself because I’ve previewed the new curriculum that’s going to be taught and it’s terrifying and she’s going to have to teach her children herself pretty soon anyway if she wants them to become educated adults so I should be telling her how to ration food for her family and start eating less now so that they can get used to the tiny portions that they’ll be given and that her children should stop eating sugar and stop wearing coats and stop spending time with their friends who aren’t Christians and take a martial arts class before quarantine starts and her entire family should learn basic first aid and CPR right now and she should probably enroll in some online classes when lockdown does start since she’ll have more time than she’s even expecting to have right now-
“The school system has been set up so that teachers are required to videotape their lectures and send them to RC students who would be in their class. The system is designed to be fully student-opporable, and of course they will always be able to email their teachers or receive free tutoring. As a parent, you should be as involved or uninvolved as you want to be.”
“Oh thank you for that clarification. That’s really a weight off my mind.”
“I’m glad,” Connie says, “Let’s hear our next caller.”
“Hi Jason,” Red Hollard’s southern accent greets me, “First of all, I just wanna say how cool it is that you were a secret agent and that you’re dedicating that knowledge to the benefit of your fellow citizens. That’s just really great.”
“What’s your question, Red?”
“Oh right,” he snickers, “Well you know, my business is goin’ online now, as much as it can, and I’m just wonderin’ what that one part about going outside meant?”
It means you should start exercising daily.
“Yeah, so that’s just an acknowledgement of the importance of getting outside and staying active. Obviously, it’s illegal to leave town, and most of the time it will be to leave your house, except for, what you saw, which is every other day from three pm to six pm. I would suggest taking advantage of this time. Meeting with friends might be a good idea. I would meet with them outside though so that you still get that dose of sunlight and just fresh air.”
“Oh well thanks. So I couldn’t go to work?”
“Probably not… The biggest thing to remember about this situation is that you want to do exactly what the rules say. This isn’t the time to get rebellious or angry. We want peace just as much as the government does for the country. Sometimes peace means sacrifices. As Christians, sometimes we have to let go of some things, if we want to keep this peace.”
My eyes bounce to Connie’s. She shakes her head, giving me an almost threatening gaze.
“Thank you for your question, Red. Who is our next caller?”
I incorrectly answer more questions, letting go of my desire to speak with Connie- to apologize. Have I apologized? As she exits her show we both release a breath. Connie stands up.
“You know I’m sorry, right?” I say.
There’s no emotion on her face
“So you’ve said.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I thought you didn’t.”
“I want to make things… I want things to be normal again, Connie.”
“So do I!”
“Great.”
“But they can’t be.”
“Wh-”
“Jason, you’ve been lying to me for, what? Years apparently? How on earth am I supposed to pretend everything is normal? You have hurt me, Jason. I know I look angry, and… yeah. I guess I am. I’m really, really angry. But it’s mostly a cover. I’m mostly in pain. I can’t trust you anymore. Can’t you see that? Jason, why can’t you see that?”
And what am I supposed to say to that? She’s right. Of course she’s right. So I nod slightly and let her leave the room. I check my watch as I walk through the shop I once managed and into the bitter Odyssey night. My stomach is aching. I haven’t eaten all day. I text Jamie on the way to my car.
She’s wearing a purple turtleneck and sitting at a small table in the back of the restaurant when I walk in. She stands and kisses my cheek before I sit down across from her and try to smile. Her smile is real.
“I missed you,” she straightens herself a little and studies my eyes. She bites her lip for a second. Something I haven’t seen her do yet.
“Something’s wrong,” she says.
“Eh I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Yeah I mean, quarantine is coming up. We’re all a little stressed, right?”
The deep breath she takes almost makes me think she’d forgotten about it until I brought it up.
“That’s true. You’re staying in your apartment, right?”
“Yeah,” I nod, ripping open my straw, “I’ve got money. There’s no reason not to.”
She nods.
“We haven’t really talked about this,” I realized, “Are you gonna be okay? Will they let you go to work?”
“I doubt it. And it’s not really a job I can do remotely. I’ll probably be let go,” she shrugs.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Of course not. But what am I supposed to do?”
I don’t have a good answer for her. If she wants to make money she needs to get an online job. But Jamie’s an extravert. I’m pretty sure she’ll hate that.
“Yeah I don’t know,” I say. And then I whisper, “You could move in with me.”
But I don’t think I meant to say it out loud. Jamie laughs. It’s a light, toothy laugh that makes me smile and even blush a little.
“Jason, we’ve been dating less than a month!”
“Yeah, okay so I’m really just thinking out loud here, but I have a guest bedroom. This isn’t- I want to make sure you’re taken care of. That was the thought behind it. I don’t mean to push you into a commitment that I don’t think either of us are willing to make yet.”
“Okay gotcha,” she nods slowly, scanning the floor in thought, “I’ll keep your offer in mind. I can always move back out if things get complicated or I don’t know we start hating each other, right?”
“Right,” I laugh. She laughs too, because the idea of ever hating each other is so detached from the reality we’re living now.
It’s a good reality too. Our dates have been an escape and they’ve held simultaneously youth and maturity. She’s teaching me how to feel again. With her green eyes that dance with wisdom, and her coiled, brilliant red hair that she always tries unsuccessfully to keep out of her face. Her nails that drum the table or my arm when she’s thinking. Everything she does is vulnerability and excitement. Even when we’re talking about what seems to be the end of the world, she exudes this kind of peace. Maybe she can finally make me feel at peace.
DION’S POV
We get back from Whit’s End, and it’s like there’s a new, almost demonic force inside our little apartment. Our car ride over was nearly silent, aside from a few off beat yeses and nos. My husband drops his backpack onto the loveseat in our tiny living room and then starts roaming the kitchen like he has nothing better to do.
“So you don’t want to talk about it?” I ask, standing at the entryway.
“About what?”
I lower my brow, then realize it’s hard to say it out loud. And it’s hard to say it when he’s like this. When he’s stubborn and dismissive and so far from his normal self.
“About being parents.”
And that’s the thing. He knew exactly what I meant, yet he deliberately pretended not to. He just nods and gets a box of crackers from the cabinet.
“Okay. Let’s talk about it then.”
He shoves a cracker into his mouth.
“So she’s supposed to have the baby within a month. That gives us enough time to get everything ready. We’ve been saving up, we have the funds. We can do this, so I don’t understand your hesitancy, or whatever this indifference act is supposed to be.”
“I’m not indifferent. I’m just tired. I’m… depressed. I haven’t taken my meds in like a week.”
He blinks a few times like there’s something in his eye and gets the container of pills out of a drawer across the room. I watch him swallow one and put the bottle back.
“Why are your hands shaking?”
I go to him and take them in mine.
He sort of sniffs and then gulps.
“I don’t feel well.”
I stare at his hands inside mine, then up into his eyes that are roaming the counter and my chest. He was taking a shower when I woke up this morning.
“When was the last time you slept?”
That sentence makes him flinch.
“Like a day,” he mumbles.
“Why?”
He shrugs.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay let’s get you to bed now.”
I help him walk to our bedroom, and he becomes a little more alert once he starts changing.
“I know you’re tired, but can we agree to… agree to this?”
“With Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know,” he pulls on a t-shirt, “It feels really fast.”
I nod.
“Yeah. It kind of is. Do you think we’re not ready?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know yet. I feel like… I’ve been thinking about my dad and Wooton… and I’m not them. And I don’t think I can be.”
“Alright back up. I get that you’re afraid, but aren’t you comparing yourself to the wrong thing? Come on, those are two people who have worked with kids longer than you have. You’ve also never had a direct impact on a child’s life like that. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself. And don’t get me wrong, I’m scared too. I’m terrified. But isn’t this important? Isn’t it what we’re supposed to do? We’ve prayed about this.”
“We haven’t prayed about Sarah.”
That catches me off guard.
“Nope you’re right. We haven’t.”
“Alright then.”
He sits next to me on our bed and threads our hands together. We take a moment to pray silently. I close my eyes and try to empty my mind. I didn’t realize how loud my thoughts were until now, but anxiety is screaming at me. So almost instinctively, I picture myself on a mountain. Jesus is sitting on a rock nearby. He shifts to me and smiles. I talk to him silently.
“We’re having trouble here,” I begin, “I don’t-” and I decide to speak out loud, “I don’t understand why you brought us here. Why any of this is happening. Jesus, it really seems like you want us to adopt a kid, but it feels so selfish and we are so afraid.”
“God, we know you have a plan here. Can you please show us where it is? Please point out… Dion.”
“What?”
I open my eyes.
“I figured something out.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m just afraid He’s wrong.”
That sentiment is like a sudden fever. I know he’s right. So we spend the rest of the time we would usually spent time praying, just meditating. Just trying to understand our God. Just trying to listen.
We wake up at noon the next day, and we both know what we’re supposed to do.
JULES’ POV
I wake up and it’s like there’s a thunderstorm in our home. I’m in bed, completely dressed, staring at the ceiling. I close my eyes. I hear Buck in the living room, talking to a few male strangers. I sit up, feeling achy and tense. Our mattress is on the floor with two blankets and two pillows. I know I should get up and fold them. I know I should walk out and help Buck pack the last box, and help Levi get breakfast before the long day.
I lie back down. These are the days that I still feel like a teenager. The days I wish I was still a teenager, whatever that meant. Sometimes it feels like I skipped that part of my life entirely. Or like someone stole it from me. I realize that now. Buck and I felt so guilty about having sex before marriage, and I think I finally understand why we did that. We had sex because we knew we weren’t teenagers anymore. We knew there wasn’t a point in trying to preserve our innocence anymore because the shooting, the restrictions, even Smallpox took it from us. I think we both moved to Odyssey, hoping to decorrupt our brains. Maybe in a tiny town in the middle of Ohio, where there were no con-artists or tycoons to spoil childhood. We were so naive. I miss that.
I finally do get up. I fold the blankets and put everything in a couple white trash bags. Buck comes back into the apartment after helping move a chair.
“Oh hey Jules. You’re up.”
“Yeah,” I nod, “Thanks for letting me sleep in.”
He gives me a small smile and turns to the living room. I think he’s going to say something, but then he clamps his lips together again and asks me where Levi is.
“I guess he’s still asleep. I’ll go get ‘em.”
“Okay.”
He drums the counter with his palms and then picks up another box as I walk to our son’s door, which I knock on and then slowly open.
“Levi?”
He has a sleeping bag in his otherwise empty room. He throws a blanket over his head when I walk in. I laugh. It feels good to laugh.
“What are you doing, kiddo?”
“Ssh! Mom, I’m invisible!”
“Oh, sorry,” I whisper, “Boy, I wonder where Levi is… I hope he hasn’t turned into a superhero with invisibility powers.”
He giggles.
“Cuz you know if he’s invisible, he can’t sit in the big trunk outside.”
“The truck is here?!” He rips off the blanket.
I laugh,
“Yeah! You wanna go check it out?”
He thinks for a second, then shrugs.
“What’s the matter?”
He shrugs again and his bottom lip turns out. He puts the blanket over his head again before I can see his first tear. But I hear them.
“Aw, baby.”
I pull him into my lap, where he buries his face in my chest.
“I don’t wanna go,” he coughs.
I kiss his head as Buck walks in. We exchange empathetic looks, and he joins us on the floor. I lift up Levi’s blanket. He’s wiping his eyes.
“Can you tell the truck to come back tomorrow, daddy?”
He gives a little southern laugh.
“I’m sorry, son. We gotta go today. We’re having a party at Whit’s End, remember?”
He nods.
“But we’re not gonna be at home anymore.”
A few more tears fall. I push them away with my thumb.
“Whit’s End is just gonna be our home for a little while instead. And ya know, Sam is living there too. And Ben, and your grandparents and your aunt Connie and Aunt Eliza. That sounds fun doesn’t it?”
“Do we get lots of ice cream?”
“Yep. And I think we can have ice cream for lunch today if we want to.”
This makes him smile.
“Okay.”
“But first we gotta eat breakfast, right?”
He nods.
We roll up his sleeping bag and set it outside with Buck and I’s bedding. I make eggs and Buck makes bacon and smoothies. After we eat, we go around the apartment and say goodbye to each room, and then pray together.
` Levi gets to sit in the truck while we finish loading the car, and then we leave. And I don’t let myself cry.
EUGENE’S POV
I didn’t sleep last night. I am now experiencing the consequences of that slow yet rash decision. Connie is standing behind the counter and I am in front of it, leaning on it, trying to follow what she is saying.
“So we just need to close off the windows to the doors and get new blinds, right?”
I nod.
“Indeed.”
“Great.”
She makes some notes on the blueprint between us, then pauses.
“Do you want coffee? I was going to make some anyway, and you seem really out of it.”
I shrug.
“Hm. Yes, that would be- excellent. Thank you, Miss Kendall.”
She nods and flips on the coffee maker. I check my watch. It’s eight twenty-eight.
“People will be arriving in approximately half an hour.”
“Okay,” she takes a long breath, and then we make eye contact. And I’m reminded that Constance Kendall understands. Her green eyes are spilling out so many sentences. She knows I couldn’t sleep last night, and she knows that I’ll try to look as energetic as possible all day. She knows I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, and she knows I’m drowning in my own dread. She’s always been able to read me like a book, and it’s usually obnoxious. Today it’s giving me oxygen. She bites her upper lip and folds the blueprint,
“We can do this later.”
Then she walks to the front of the counter and hugs me. And just like when Mr. Whittaker left for the middle east, and when Katrina started dating someone else, and when her mother died, it’s awkward and exactly what we need. Because no one else is in the shop, and that means something. We are simply Connie and Eugene at Whit’s End, for what feels like the last time.
WOOTON’S POV
Swallowing right now makes it feel like there’s a brick in the back of my throat. I force it down anyway. It makes my eyes burn, but then the feeling all stops. I’m blankly staring at the white, dirty, tile floor of the doctor’s office, squeezing my hands together. Penny takes one of them away from the other and puts her other hand on my back. I feel like I’ve snapped in two. Winnie is on the other side of the room, playing with trains like she hasn’t just made my insides twist up like a pretzel. The idea of rushing home to binge-eat snack foods in front of a cartoon from the nineties is suddenly far too appealing. Doctor Peterson is saying a lot. A lot of stuff I’ve heard before. I swallow another brick.
“Do you have any questions at this time?”
“Um,” my voice is louder than I expected it to be, “This medication is supposed to stabilize everything then? That’s- that’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes. It’s just one capsule a day. We want her to feel better. That’s my main goal, and I think that’s you two’s as well.”
“Of course,” Penny says.
I nod.
We pick up a bottle of large pink pills on the way home. Winnie is in the back seat, staring out the window, and I’m staring at the reality I’ve been trying to step around for months. My daughter has anxiety and depression.
We get home and I walk to the bedroom. I’m in a harsh daze, standing next to the bed when Penny walks in. It feels like our roles have been reversed from our last conversation like this. She sits on the bed and puts a pillow on her lap and pats it. I lie down and she puts one hand on my chest and one hand in my hair, then steals my line,
“What are you afraid of?”
“I know what it’s like,” I begin.
“Mhm.”
“I didn’t know she felt as bad as I did.”
I barely notice when a few tears slide down the side of my face. I sniff,
“Oh, Penny I wanted it to be different for her.”
“Wooton, it is. She has medication. You didn’t have anything when you were her age. Wooton, she has parents who love her. She has a dad who loves her. That makes a difference. She’s not broken.”
“I know that, but I never want her to feel like she is. But she already does, I can see it.”
“I think… then maybe it’s our job to love her through that. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll work out.”
She’s braiding a few strands of my hair together. I take a long, shaky breath.
“It will. We should take the night to just relax. Rent a movie.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
We give Winnie her first ice cream serving of antidepressants. Then we sit down and watch a movie together. That night we tuck her in and tell her how special and how beautiful she is like we always do. Penny and I take time to pray and call Buck and Jules to ask how Levi was responding to the same treatment. This routine steadies me a little -enough that I can get to sleep at least. I just wish I could shake this feeling of hopelessness. This stabbing of dread.
VANCE’S POV
Tamika and I step into the Whit’s End library. We take a long, simultaneous breath. So this is our home. I have to admit, it’s at least bigger than I expected. With most of the book shelves out of the way, it’s almost the size of a small apartment without the walls. We have a bathroom and we brought our own mini fridge. I set it next to the bed frame the movers had set up a couple hours ago. Tamika laughs a little.
“It’s… almost like college.”
I nod,
“Yeah cuz you would know what college is like.”
I give her a playful smile on the way out the door. She sets down a box and calls after me,
“You didn’t go to college either!”
We move in more boxes and a couple more furniture pieces. I’m again surprised by how much it actually looks somewhat like a home. We make our bed, and vacuum the carpet. There are no windows, but somehow it’s more comforting that way. We brought a couple lamps with us, and when we shut the door and clicked them on with the lights off, it was somewhat beautiful. With Tamika’s keyboard in one corner, and an arm chair in another, and our desks next to each other. It’s welcoming. It’s about two in the afternoon when we realize we haven’t talked to many of our new house-mates. We got pretty quickly caught up in decorating.
So we go out to the eating area of the front of the shop, and it’s chaotic, but there’s an overall positive energy. People seem to actually enjoy the idea of living together, and I feel the same way. I turn to Tamika and smile. She smiles back.
The room I wake up in is pitch black. The only noise I can hear is my heartbeat and the traffic on the street below our Chicago hotel. My stomach hurts, so I sit up and wrap my arms around myself. At my right, Wooton shifts in his sleep. I take a long breath and decide to step outside onto the balcony. I bring my blanket with me, but the air still bites at me and makes me shiver. At least I can breathe a little easier out here. My mind is heavy. I keep seeing the words from that email. In about three months we’ll be forced to stay inside our homes at all times. There are exceptions, of course. That was a pretty short list. I just want to be back in Odyssey. Back in our house where we’re safe. The screen door rolls open and Wooton steps out with his eyes half open and his hair half flattened. He’s not wearing a shirt, but he’s trying to wrap himself in a blanket.
“Penny?”
“Sorry, I tried not to wake you up.”
“Hm. I don’t mind,” he wraps his arms around my waist, “I’m worried about you,” he kisses my cheek.
“I know.”
“We’re gonna be okay.”
“I know. We have… a lot of money,” I sniff.
“Yes. That’s true. And we can use that to help people.”
I turn around to face him.
“Help people?”
“I was thinking about the Meltsners. I know they’re struggling. We should help them out more. Eugene probably won’t get much income from Whit’s End anymore.”
“Okay.”
“So… we can decide how much later, yeah?”
“And decide if we’re going to start giving them more.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Alright, I’m gonna head back to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
I nod as he kisses my cheek again and goes back inside.
WOOTON’S POV
I don’t really like silence. It makes me anxious.
I adjust my grip on the steering wheel. In front of my car is the road, which is underneath a whitish-gray sky. On either side of the highway are bare trees with slender branches. They look like sleeping monsters. Maybe they’re avoiding the cold. Maybe they’re avoiding the silence.
I glance at the inside rearview mirror. Some of it is full of my orange hair. I impulsively slip it behind my ear. When I do, I can see Winnie. Her very similar curls are like a pillow under her drooping head. She’s been asleep since we left the city about an hour ago. I can’t help but shake my head a little. I should have stayed outside longer last night. I think that’s why Penny isn’t talking to me. And I know she knows how much I hate it. She’s scrolling through her phone. She’s waiting for an apology.
“Penny?”
“Uhuh.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Okay… well, I think I hurt your feelings, right?”
“You did.”
“Will you let me apologize?”
“I suppose.”
She turns off her phone.
“I’m sorry, hun. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you didn’t have a say in our money. And I think I made you feel like our family isn’t important.”
She nods slightly.
“Penny, I should have started with this,” I put my hand on her thigh, “Our family comes first. You and Winnie will always come first. Always.”
“Okay.”
“You believe me?”
“Yeah.”
We both take a heavy breath that ends with my wife taking my hand and quickly kissing the back of it.
“I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I felt,” she says, “I’m just scared. Wooton, I’m really scared.”
I tighten my grasp on her hand and her chest jumps at a sob. She controls it.
“I hate feeling like I don’t belong anywhere. I hate being rich, but I’m afraid of being poor. And- and you just keep talking about how much money we should give away to people, and I know we have enough, but I keep feeling like we don’t. And I don’t want to feel helpless. But I can’t turn to you for help. Like, this isn’t my student loan debt, Wooton, this is our child’s freedom!”
“I know. I know that.”
“Then why don’t you care!” She sobs again. She knows it’s a low blow as soon as she says it. Vulnerability has never been my strong suit. She knows that.
Winnie rubs her eyes.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” I whisper. She nods. I put my hand back on the steering wheel, and she pats away her tears.
PENNY’S POV
We get home at 3:17 in the afternoon, but it feels more like midnight. I didn't go back to sleep last night. My stomach has hurt all day. I roll my suitcase into the living room and slump onto the couch. Wooton went back to the car to get Winnie’s suitcase. She’s by the TV.
“What are you gonna watch?” I ask.
“Princess Wars,” she sighs and clicks the remote to turn on the television. I close my eyes and hear Wooton roll in the rest of the suitcases.
“We can take care of these later.”
I nod and open my eyes. I’m staring at our yellow and blue ceiling. It’s the ceiling that I have a feeling I’ll be staring at for a quite a long time come February.
“You feelin’ okay?”
“I don’t know.”
I haven’t taken my eyes off the inside of our roof.
“Do you want to finish our conversation?”
“I guess,” I shrug.
I follow Wooton upstairs where he shuts the door. I sit on the bed and start staring at the floor. My husband stays at the doorway for a while. I know he’s trying to read me.
“What are you afraid of, Penny?”
We make eye contact.
“I don’t know. I mean, I told you. I don’t like… feeling out of control.”
“Yeah.”
“And… I’m afraid of something happening to you or Winnie.”
He nods slowly.
“I see what people say online, Wooton. They don’t think we should be parents. They… I’ve seen the posts… there are people who want you to die. Wooton-” I sniff as my breath is caught, “What if someone hurts you? What if someone hurts our daughter? I-” a sob interrupts, “I can’t take care of her without you. I’m a bad mom,” I squeak, and can’t make any more sentences. The tears flow and my hand against my mouth isn’t enough to make myself silent.
Wooton sits next to me. I put my head on his shoulder, and he kisses it.
“You are a fantastic mom,” he whispers, “And I will keep myself safe. And I’m gonna keep you safe.”
“I know you’ll try. But I also know it’s bad for you to be away from people. I’m concerned you’ll end up in a bad place. Mentally.”
“I know. But that’s why I have medication. And I’ll see a counsellor for the next couple months, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Hey, we’re gonna be alright. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We sit there for a little while. It is good to be together.
“We should definitely help out Eugene,” I murmur.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
BUCK’S POV
“Jules?”
“We’re in here!”
I set my guitar in the entryway and walk into our little kitchen.
“Daddy!” Levi jumps off his bar stool into my arms.
“Hey bud! How was your day?”
“Mommy and I made cookies.”
“Oh. Yeah lots of them it looks like,” I chuckle, eyeing the five containers that are sitting by the refrigerator.
“Yeah… so we might have gotten carried away,” Jules smiles, “It was something to do instead of watch TV.”
“Got it.”
Levi pats my chest, which I know means he wants down. He saunters over to the counter.
“It’s cookie time!”
Jules and I both have the instinct to stop him, and then we both don’t. I watch him reach up and open the plastic bin to get out two sugar cookies as Jules puts her hand at my waist.
“I needed a day to process everything.”
“I get that. And I’m glad you took it,” I kiss her.
“Ew get a room!” Levi growls through a mouthful of cookie. We giggle at him.
“How was the meeting?” Jules asks.
“Honestly, not the most productive. Everyone’s pretty distracted. You probably had the right idea.”
“Maybe, but I do want to get a new album out before we go into lockdown. We’ll figure things out.”
“Yeah.”
That sentence held more weight than I think she expected it to. The only sound in our kitchen is Levi, who’s now jumping between the carpet in the living room and the wood floor in the kitchen, and my wife and I’s very loud eye contact. We have a lot of things to figure out. We both know we don’t have time.
“I think tonight will be good,” she says.
“Yeah. Probably.”
“I’ll um. I’ll go get ready, then.”
“Okay. Oh, and Dion and Grady can watch Levi tonight.”
“Oh good. Alright, I’ll just need fifteen minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
She goes to our bedroom, and I get Levi’s shoes out of the closet.
“Hey, Levi, can you come get your shoes on?”
He groans.
“I’m not done with my cookie yet!”
“That looks like about one more bite. Finish up and then you can put them on.”
He puts the last bite in his mouth and his eyes light up.
“Am I going to Mr. Dion’s house?”
“Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry.”
“Thanks. Yeah, you’re going to Mr. Dion’s.”
“Woo hoo!” He throws both arms up in the air. I laugh.
“Okay let’s get your shoes on then.”
He plops onto the floor and scoots over to me. I sit down with him and hand him the velcro tennis shoes.
“Do you like my socks, Dad?”
He’s wearing dinosaur socks.
“Those are awesome.”
“Mom got ‘em for me today.”
“That’s- great.”
He finishes putting on his shoes and then stands up and starts stomping to make them light up.
“Not I’m REALLY like a dinosaur!” He roars, storming around the kitchen.
“Hey, Mr. Dinosaur, what do you want to bring with you?”
“My Captain Absolutely action figures, duh!”
“Okay, pick out three to bring with you.”
“Can I bring some cookies too?” He asks, running to his bedroom.
“N- One. You can bring one cookie, okay? But don’t let them give you any other desserts!”
He pokes his head out of the doorway.
“Not even M&Ms on my popcorn?”
“That… that can be up to them, okay?”
“Fine,” he trudges back into his room.
“Alright. I’m ready to go when you are,” Jules says, coming back into the kitchen. She’s wearing a sweater and jeans, and her hair is in two braids.
“Yeah we just gotta wait for Levi. He’s getting his action figures. You look beautiful.”
The compliment catches her off-guard as she’s putting on her boots. She gives me a full smile,
“Thanks. Oh, quick,” she stands up with one boot on and kisses me. And I don’t know how, but it sort of stops time. The moment slowly sheds my anxiety. Because this is consistency, with her arms around my neck and my hands at her hips. It’s the first thing that’s made sense in the last week. I think she feels it too, because even after Levi comes in and calls us love birds she puts her forehead to my shoulder a moment then gives my neck a discreet peck.
“Alright, kiddo,” she claps, “Let me put on one more shoe.”
“Mom, you’re so slow.”
She laughs and sits back on the couch.
“Watch your tone, son. How about you hop in the car?”
“Okay.”
He takes the keys from my hand and heads out the door. I let him close it and Jules put on her other shoe before saying anything. But then no words come to mind.
“We really haven’t…” her sentence trails off.
“I kinda thought it might make me more anxious. I’m really sorry, Jules. I’ve been in my head this week-”
“No so have I. That can’t be healthy, right?”
I nod, slowly.
She’s silent for a moment, and then stands up and walks to Levi’s room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting him a change of clothes and a toothbrush!”
I smile.
“I’ll text Dion.”
Eugene and Katrina are already sitting at a table when we get to Hal’s Diner. They both look tired. Jules and I sit in the chairs across from them.
“Have you ordered yet?”
“Yeah, I just asked for everyone’s usual, is that okay?”
“That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”
“Oh and we’re buying dessert,” Jules adds, “I need boston creme pie if we’re going to be talking about money.”
“Jules, I could not agree more. However, we may have come up with a solution,” Eugene raises an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Well, at this point, Whit’s End is probably our least expensive option,” Katrina says.
“Wait, but we’d still have to pay for rent, right? I mean… are you saying we should completely move out of our apartments?”
“Yes.”
It’s sort of a slap in the face. We started talking about moving into Whit’s End as soon as we got the email, but to be honest, I didn’t really expect it to be our best bet. We sit in silence, just trying to process it all.
“No, that can’t be right,” Jules mumbles, “Isn’t… we’d have to pay for utilities.”
Eugene explains,
“Well, no. We don’t. I spoke with Mr. Whittaker yesterday, and he gave Connie and I access to his bank account. We can keep the shop open for years.”
My jaw drops.
“Seriously?”
He nods.
Jules and I take a breath. We know he’s right then. We should stop renting.
“There’s sort of more,” Katrina begins, ‘Whit’s End is huge.”
“Oh yeah, all of Smallpox at least could fit,” Jules shakes her head, staring at the table.
“Right.”
“Then, that’s it? We find online jobs or… I guess... make more music, and everyone lives together?”
Katrina nods. She’s been quiet. We make eye contact and I can see how red her eyes are.
“You okay?”
She shrugs.
“It’s just been hard to process,” she sniffs back a sob and dabs her eyes with her napkin. Eugene puts his hand on her back.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
Zelda comes over and quickly sets down our food.
“Everything look alright?”
We nod and thank her.
“I’m sorry-” she pauses, “I sorta overheard. I- Well I think we’re all feelin’ a little anxious right now. Don’t bottle it up for too long.”
Katrina smiles a bit,
“Alright.”
“Just long enough to eat those squash tacos.”
Katrina sniffs and laughs a little,
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll be praying for y’all.”
“Thanks, Zelda.”
“Alright,” Katrina takes a breath and a drink of water, “Um. Let’s figure out sleeping arrangements.”
We spend the rest of dinner going over the Whit’s End blueprints that Eugene brought, deciding what changes we’ll have to make to the building itself and what living with a bunch of people would actually look like. Making plans made everyone feel a little better. It also helps that we have three months to finish everything. And as we drive home, I almost feel hopeful.
ELIZA’S POV
“Remind me again why we’re going to a park,” Wyatt asks.
He’s in the driver's seat of my dad’s back up car that he bought last week. It smells like cigarettes. I adjust the collar on my jean jacket and roll my eyes.
“That’s where we usually hang out.”
“Yeah, but why?” He laughs, “You and your friends couldn’t go somewhere more fun?”
“McAllister Park is fun. It’s… pretty.”
“It’s also… COLD.”
“You’re ridiculous. You know most guys like to prove how tough they are by being in the cold.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not! Michael usually wears a t-shirt and just brings a blanket for when it gets really cold.”
“There’s snow on the ground. I consider this really cold.”
“Well you’ll be happy to know that we usually sit around the campfire.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that? That’s like- yeah that’s like normal teenager stuff.”
“Well I’m glad we meet your standards. We’ll probably end up going to the Shaltanis’ for snacks and a movie too.”
“Sweet. You’re sure it won’t be weird with me there?”
“Stop saying that! I told you, Stephany is your age, and we’re all really extraverted people. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Alright.”
It’s been about a month since we heard about the new lock-down stuff. I don’t think about it most days. At least I don’t try to. Hanging out with friends kinda makes it hard not to though. We don’t know how long the government will want to keep us indoors, so aside from a few video call chats a week, I might not be able to see my friends for “up to two years.” I don’t think my dad thinks it’ll be that long. He won’t say it out loud, but I’m pretty sure he expects us to be put into camps at some point before then.
Sitting in the car, goosebumps run up my back. I turn up the heating and take in a long breath. I really want to be with my friends.
I don’t have to wait long. Wyatt pulls into the parking lot by the bon-fire pit, and Kodi and Quinn start climbing up the small hill of snow to meet us. Wyatt stops the car and we both step out into the still winter afternoon.
WYATT’S POV
I’m not very experienced with friendships, and my stomach turns to remind me of this fact. I push up my glasses and pull my coat tighter around myself, still baffled by how these kids can function outside in the dead of winter. I lock Eugene’s car and put the keys in my pocket.
I make a mental note of where they are. I’ve felt a little like a bull in a china shop since moving in with the Meltsners. I’m the second tallest person in the house and eat more than everyone else. My room is always messier than Eliza’s, even though I try really hard to keep it clean. And even though Eugene got this car a week ago, I’m using it almost every day to get to work and back. Frankly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m even going to work if we’re moving into Whit’s End. Maybe there’s a part of my brain that thinks I’ll be able to save up enough for an apartment or maybe I’ll get a job online or maybe this whole thing will go away. I can see it now, the president getting up in front of everyone saying,
“Haha! It was all a joke to scare you! You actually DO deserve freedom and equality.”
That’s the other thing I’ve been working on. I keep reading the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, trying to figure out a way around all of this. I know it’s frivolous, but I would feel weird to not try. I’m a research kind of person. I want to know as much as I can. Jason’s told me a little more than he’s told most people I think. I don’t want to think about all of that though. Especially since most of it invalidates my research. Government people are at a different level of understanding when it comes to those things.
Elizabeth introduces me to her friends after hugging both of them and making a couple inside jokes that I smile politely at.
“So, Wyatt, this is Kodi, she’s seventeen.”
“Nice to meet you, Wyatt,” she smiles, extending her hand.
I smile and shake it,
“You too.”
This is an easy to read person. Kodi is first of all attractive. She has thick dark hair, blue eyes, and soft, prominent facial features. I can tell she gains a lot of confidence from her appearance. I can’t blame her. And based on her small giggle and eye-roll, I don’t think she blames me for blushing at her touch. She’s a Christian.
“Okay, and this is Quinn,” Eliza gestures, “They’re the baby of the group.”
“Woah. Calm down, Liz. I’m fourteen. And you’re fifteen.”
“Right, so you’re the youngest. We protect them at all cost. You hurt this child, I will hurt you more. They’re also my best friend,” Eliza beams, putting her arm around them and holding her head high. Quinn brushes it off and shakes my hand.
“I am small but feisty and I can take care of myself.”
I laugh,
“It’s good to meet you.”
` Quinn has the same hair as their sister, but it’s short and sort of spiked up in the front. They have glasses and seem a little less sure of themselves, but their spunk and clean, clearly expensive clothing style make up for it. Quinn is not a Christian.
They both have several layers of jackets on.
“Oh my gosh is this Wyatt?”
Who I assume is Stephany waddle-runs over to meet us, carrying a bag of marshmallows and chocolate bars. Her brother Michael is close behind. Stephany has curly reddish-blonde hair and Michael has curly black hair. I can already tell their polar opposites and not just in skin tone. Michael’s scrolling through his phone.
Elizabeth makes more introductions.
“Eliza has literally told us so much about you, it’s almost unreal that you’re here right now. And let me just say, this soft boy look: adorable.”
I chuckle.
“Thank you. Everything’s thrifted.”
She gasps, glancing at my ankles. She slowly lifts a couple finger guns. I hold up some silent peace signs and laugh out loud.
“Okay what on earth was that?” Michael is taking a break from staring at his phone to stare at us.
“Just some bisexual gang signs. You wouldn’t understand. Have you been to Ben’s Racks?” She turns back to me.
“Yes! I’ve honestly stopped going shopping anywhere else.”
We end up sitting at the fire that Quinn and Kodi had started before we got there, and I’m surprised to find that I don’t regret coming. We play a few games and eat s’mores and just talk about teenager stuff. They embody escapism at its finest- this group of quirky, energetic youth. It’s a foreign culture. No one looks at the news. No one talks about terrorism or death or concentration camps or the constitution or computers. It’s innocence and wisdom. And I fall in love with these people immediately. What made me think before that I shouldn’t have friends?
ELIZA’S POV
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
I fistbump Wyatt in the arm. We’re in the kitchen refilling our soda cups. Everyone else is in the living room watching Inside Out.
“About what?” He takes a sip of rootbeer.
“Coming to this. You’ve had fun, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. Yes it’s actually been great. Still not a fan of the cold though.”
“Eh you’ll get used to it,” I shrug, pouring Dr. Pepper into my plastic cup.
“Oh does that mean I’m officially a part of your little friend group?”
“Yep. You’re stuck with us now. Congratulations.”
He taps my cup with his.
“Cheers.”
We go back into the living room and finish the movie with everyone. By the time we get our food and drinks cleaned up it’s six.
“Alright Elizabeth, we better head out,” Wyatt nods to the door.
“Oh yep you’re right. We have that meeting thing.”
Stephany’s phone starts ringing and we all kind of stand there while she answers.
“Hey what’s up?... Yeah we’re just at the Shaltanis’. Oh- okay. Sure but… seriously? Okay. Sure we’ll head over.”
She hangs up.
“We’re… following you there I guess. Apparently Eugene and Katrina have been talking to our parents about moving into Whit’s End.”
“Wait really?” I know it’s a loss for them, but I can’t help but get excited.
“Yeah,” she half smiles, glancing at her phone, “Kodi, they said you could come too.”
She’s caught off guard and almost says something and then looks at Quinn. Quinn sort of shrugs as if to tell her it’s okay. She nods hesitantly.
“Okay. Alright I think that’s a good idea. Let me just… tell my moms.”
She holds off her steps a moment, then walks upstairs.
“We’ll uh… we’ll see you there then,” Wyatt nods a goodbye to everyone, and I follow him out. We’re both silent for the first five minutes of the drive. Wyatt releases a long breath,
“I just feel awful for her.”
I nod.
“Yeah it’s… that’s been hard for her- I mean it’s been hard for the family.”
“I’m sure.”
And that’s all we say about it. Probably because we both know what it feels like to some extent. And we both know there’s no easy solution to these kinds of problems.
We’re the last ones to arrive at Whit’s End. The seating area is full of all the Smallpox members, the Lewis family, and mine and Stephany’s parents, who are having a quiet conversation in the corner booth. Everyone else is engaged in their own conversations. It’s sort of intimidating for some reason. Maybe it’s the idea of living with everyone. Maybe it’s the realization that I’ve seen most of these people on my phone more than I have in real life. Everyone is either excited or really tense. It’s hard to tell conversation to conversation. Dad sees us come in and offers us drinks. He says he opened the soda fountain for the meeting. I shrug, saying I can never have too much coke. Wyatt says my diabetes would disagree, and gets another rootbeer. By the time we get our drinks and sit down, Stephany, Kodi, and Michael walk in. We invite them to join us, and they do. They’re all pretty quiet. I wonder if they had a difficult conversation on the drive over. Stephany and Michael have been trying to get Kodi to share the gospel with her family for the last several months, and she’s sort of refused. I know it’s not because she doesn’t want them to come to Jesus, and I think Steph and Michael know that too. The last time she explained it to me was something along the lines of,
“I don’t want to cause tension.”
Stephany and Michael have always been “speak the truth in love” kind of people. Stephany’s zeal has backed off a little lately, but Michael seems pretty firm in his political and social views. If they did have a conversation, the tension was probably between him and Kodi.
The three slide into our booth with Stephany on the end.
“So this will be really weird,” I say.
They nod.
“Do you think we’ll live in the same room as our parents?” Michael asks, “I was kinda thinking maybe we could have a separate teenager room.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Wyatt nods, “You should tell Eugene.”
“Alright.”
Dad taps a glass until everyone is looking at him.
“Ah. Well, thank you for your attention. Greetings and salutations. In these unprecedented times, I humbly make the argument that communication is an important -if not a vital- piece of the coping process. Hence, your presence. As of now, we have created a sleep arrangement chart. This separates families into around one room each, with the exception of the Train room, which will be shared by Buck, Jules, Levi, and all of our teenagers.”
Our booth perks up at this news.
“There is also a list of revisions that need to be made to the building itself before we move in. Beside each task is some blank space. If you wish to volunteer, or have some ideas that might help with a specific project, please write your name, or those ideas in said space. Are there any questions before Buck goes over the specific sleeping arrangements?”
No one raises their hands, so my brother stands up with a white sheet of paper in hand that looks like he’s scribbled and erased everything from it about twenty times. He goes over where everyone else will be staying. I kind of zone out for this and end up staring at my coke. Maybe I’m avoiding thinking about all of these changes. They feel really sudden. The rest of my booth probably feels the same way. Michael has his head down, scrolling through instagram. Stephany is tearing up a straw rapper, and Wyatt is staring at the wall on the other side of the room, slightly moving his lips like he’s trying to finish a math problem. Someone’s arguing with Buck about where they want to sleep, and someone else says something to contract them. Someone insults another person. None of us are phased. And I look back at my coke, but I’m not thirsty anymore.
JASON’S POV
I walk into Whit’s End feeling like a criminal. I heard from Wyatt that a lot of people are moving in when restrictions begin. I know I shouldn’t move in with them, and I already feel this isolation process begin. Soon I won’t be seen as one of them at all, and not because of my bad decisions, but because of my status. Connie is smiling with a pen in her hand, writing something in a notebook in front of a booth of teenagers. Wyatt’s the first one to see me. Connie’s eyes follow suit and they quickly jump to the clock on her wrist and toward the Kidz Radio studio. She gives the kids a small smile,
“Just write down whatever comes to mind. Eugene won’t admit how big our budget is.”
She walks past me,
“Let’s get this over with.”
I follow her into the studio where she sits down at her usual desk in front of her microphone and silently starts setting things up. I sit across from her at the other desk and put on the pair of headphones. I can sense her fury and decide to evade it by going over the notes in my phone. They all look good. I know she’s done setting up. I cough into my fist.
“We have five minutes.”
I glance up to see her go red. She stands up and taps the table,
“Enough time to get some water.”
“Okay I’ll-”
“I’ll bring you one!”
She leaves me alone in this strange brown room. I feel like it’s even judging me. I accept this judgement fully. I know I deserve it, and if my brain is going to haunt me by giving walls amphomorphic qualities, so be it. The four minutes I’m alone feel more like fifteen. Connie finally returns and sets a sweating water bottle in front of me. I whisper a thank you.
She clicks on the glowing red recording sign.
“Hi everybody and welcome to Candid Conversations with Connie! I hope you are all doing well and finding peace in these difficult times! Today I have a special guest who I think can shed some light on some of those more difficult questions that the internet can’t answer. Whit’s End’s very own Jason Whittaker. How are you today, Jason?”
“I’m doing well, Connie. Thank you for having me on the show. As someone who worked for the CIA for over twenty years, I think I should be able to interpret some of these complicated phrases in the new restrictions.”
I’m gonna need that water sooner than I thought.
“That’s great,” there is murder in this women’s eyes I swear, “Let’s start off this conversation with some questions from our listeners. Calls are already showing up. She clicks one of them.
“Hello caller, you are on the air.”
“Hi! My name is Jessica. I’m a busy mom of three from Connellsville. Since we’ll have to go into quarantine in the middle of the school year, I’m still a bit confused as to how much of a role I’m supposed to have in my children’s education as they learn online at home.”
I grossly underestimated these questions. I have an answer. It’s not a hard question. But I can’t give her the answer I want to. I should be telling her that she should unenroll her children in the public school system and teach them completely herself because I’ve previewed the new curriculum that’s going to be taught and it’s terrifying and she’s going to have to teach her children herself pretty soon anyway if she wants them to become educated adults so I should be telling her how to ration food for her family and start eating less now so that they can get used to the tiny portions that they’ll be given and that her children should stop eating sugar and stop wearing coats and stop spending time with their friends who aren’t Christians and take a martial arts class before quarantine starts and her entire family should learn basic first aid and CPR right now and she should probably enroll in some online classes when lockdown does start since she’ll have more time than she’s even expecting to have right now-
“The school system has been set up so that teachers are required to videotape their lectures and send them to RC students who would be in their class. The system is designed to be fully student-opporable, and of course they will always be able to email their teachers or receive free tutoring. As a parent, you should be as involved or uninvolved as you want to be.”
“Oh thank you for that clarification. That’s really a weight off my mind.”
“I’m glad,” Connie says, “Let’s hear our next caller.”
“Hi Jason,” Red Hollard’s southern accent greets me, “First of all, I just wanna say how cool it is that you were a secret agent and that you’re dedicating that knowledge to the benefit of your fellow citizens. That’s just really great.”
“What’s your question, Red?”
“Oh right,” he snickers, “Well you know, my business is goin’ online now, as much as it can, and I’m just wonderin’ what that one part about going outside meant?”
It means you should start exercising daily.
“Yeah, so that’s just an acknowledgement of the importance of getting outside and staying active. Obviously, it’s illegal to leave town, and most of the time it will be to leave your house, except for, what you saw, which is every other day from three pm to six pm. I would suggest taking advantage of this time. Meeting with friends might be a good idea. I would meet with them outside though so that you still get that dose of sunlight and just fresh air.”
“Oh well thanks. So I couldn’t go to work?”
“Probably not… The biggest thing to remember about this situation is that you want to do exactly what the rules say. This isn’t the time to get rebellious or angry. We want peace just as much as the government does for the country. Sometimes peace means sacrifices. As Christians, sometimes we have to let go of some things, if we want to keep this peace.”
My eyes bounce to Connie’s. She shakes her head, giving me an almost threatening gaze.
“Thank you for your question, Red. Who is our next caller?”
I incorrectly answer more questions, letting go of my desire to speak with Connie- to apologize. Have I apologized? As she exits her show we both release a breath. Connie stands up.
“You know I’m sorry, right?” I say.
There’s no emotion on her face
“So you’ve said.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I thought you didn’t.”
“I want to make things… I want things to be normal again, Connie.”
“So do I!”
“Great.”
“But they can’t be.”
“Wh-”
“Jason, you’ve been lying to me for, what? Years apparently? How on earth am I supposed to pretend everything is normal? You have hurt me, Jason. I know I look angry, and… yeah. I guess I am. I’m really, really angry. But it’s mostly a cover. I’m mostly in pain. I can’t trust you anymore. Can’t you see that? Jason, why can’t you see that?”
And what am I supposed to say to that? She’s right. Of course she’s right. So I nod slightly and let her leave the room. I check my watch as I walk through the shop I once managed and into the bitter Odyssey night. My stomach is aching. I haven’t eaten all day. I text Jamie on the way to my car.
She’s wearing a purple turtleneck and sitting at a small table in the back of the restaurant when I walk in. She stands and kisses my cheek before I sit down across from her and try to smile. Her smile is real.
“I missed you,” she straightens herself a little and studies my eyes. She bites her lip for a second. Something I haven’t seen her do yet.
“Something’s wrong,” she says.
“Eh I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Yeah I mean, quarantine is coming up. We’re all a little stressed, right?”
The deep breath she takes almost makes me think she’d forgotten about it until I brought it up.
“That’s true. You’re staying in your apartment, right?”
“Yeah,” I nod, ripping open my straw, “I’ve got money. There’s no reason not to.”
She nods.
“We haven’t really talked about this,” I realized, “Are you gonna be okay? Will they let you go to work?”
“I doubt it. And it’s not really a job I can do remotely. I’ll probably be let go,” she shrugs.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Of course not. But what am I supposed to do?”
I don’t have a good answer for her. If she wants to make money she needs to get an online job. But Jamie’s an extravert. I’m pretty sure she’ll hate that.
“Yeah I don’t know,” I say. And then I whisper, “You could move in with me.”
But I don’t think I meant to say it out loud. Jamie laughs. It’s a light, toothy laugh that makes me smile and even blush a little.
“Jason, we’ve been dating less than a month!”
“Yeah, okay so I’m really just thinking out loud here, but I have a guest bedroom. This isn’t- I want to make sure you’re taken care of. That was the thought behind it. I don’t mean to push you into a commitment that I don’t think either of us are willing to make yet.”
“Okay gotcha,” she nods slowly, scanning the floor in thought, “I’ll keep your offer in mind. I can always move back out if things get complicated or I don’t know we start hating each other, right?”
“Right,” I laugh. She laughs too, because the idea of ever hating each other is so detached from the reality we’re living now.
It’s a good reality too. Our dates have been an escape and they’ve held simultaneously youth and maturity. She’s teaching me how to feel again. With her green eyes that dance with wisdom, and her coiled, brilliant red hair that she always tries unsuccessfully to keep out of her face. Her nails that drum the table or my arm when she’s thinking. Everything she does is vulnerability and excitement. Even when we’re talking about what seems to be the end of the world, she exudes this kind of peace. Maybe she can finally make me feel at peace.
DION’S POV
We get back from Whit’s End, and it’s like there’s a new, almost demonic force inside our little apartment. Our car ride over was nearly silent, aside from a few off beat yeses and nos. My husband drops his backpack onto the loveseat in our tiny living room and then starts roaming the kitchen like he has nothing better to do.
“So you don’t want to talk about it?” I ask, standing at the entryway.
“About what?”
I lower my brow, then realize it’s hard to say it out loud. And it’s hard to say it when he’s like this. When he’s stubborn and dismissive and so far from his normal self.
“About being parents.”
And that’s the thing. He knew exactly what I meant, yet he deliberately pretended not to. He just nods and gets a box of crackers from the cabinet.
“Okay. Let’s talk about it then.”
He shoves a cracker into his mouth.
“So she’s supposed to have the baby within a month. That gives us enough time to get everything ready. We’ve been saving up, we have the funds. We can do this, so I don’t understand your hesitancy, or whatever this indifference act is supposed to be.”
“I’m not indifferent. I’m just tired. I’m… depressed. I haven’t taken my meds in like a week.”
He blinks a few times like there’s something in his eye and gets the container of pills out of a drawer across the room. I watch him swallow one and put the bottle back.
“Why are your hands shaking?”
I go to him and take them in mine.
He sort of sniffs and then gulps.
“I don’t feel well.”
I stare at his hands inside mine, then up into his eyes that are roaming the counter and my chest. He was taking a shower when I woke up this morning.
“When was the last time you slept?”
That sentence makes him flinch.
“Like a day,” he mumbles.
“Why?”
He shrugs.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay let’s get you to bed now.”
I help him walk to our bedroom, and he becomes a little more alert once he starts changing.
“I know you’re tired, but can we agree to… agree to this?”
“With Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know,” he pulls on a t-shirt, “It feels really fast.”
I nod.
“Yeah. It kind of is. Do you think we’re not ready?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know yet. I feel like… I’ve been thinking about my dad and Wooton… and I’m not them. And I don’t think I can be.”
“Alright back up. I get that you’re afraid, but aren’t you comparing yourself to the wrong thing? Come on, those are two people who have worked with kids longer than you have. You’ve also never had a direct impact on a child’s life like that. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself. And don’t get me wrong, I’m scared too. I’m terrified. But isn’t this important? Isn’t it what we’re supposed to do? We’ve prayed about this.”
“We haven’t prayed about Sarah.”
That catches me off guard.
“Nope you’re right. We haven’t.”
“Alright then.”
He sits next to me on our bed and threads our hands together. We take a moment to pray silently. I close my eyes and try to empty my mind. I didn’t realize how loud my thoughts were until now, but anxiety is screaming at me. So almost instinctively, I picture myself on a mountain. Jesus is sitting on a rock nearby. He shifts to me and smiles. I talk to him silently.
“We’re having trouble here,” I begin, “I don’t-” and I decide to speak out loud, “I don’t understand why you brought us here. Why any of this is happening. Jesus, it really seems like you want us to adopt a kid, but it feels so selfish and we are so afraid.”
“God, we know you have a plan here. Can you please show us where it is? Please point out… Dion.”
“What?”
I open my eyes.
“I figured something out.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m just afraid He’s wrong.”
That sentiment is like a sudden fever. I know he’s right. So we spend the rest of the time we would usually spent time praying, just meditating. Just trying to understand our God. Just trying to listen.
We wake up at noon the next day, and we both know what we’re supposed to do.
JULES’ POV
I wake up and it’s like there’s a thunderstorm in our home. I’m in bed, completely dressed, staring at the ceiling. I close my eyes. I hear Buck in the living room, talking to a few male strangers. I sit up, feeling achy and tense. Our mattress is on the floor with two blankets and two pillows. I know I should get up and fold them. I know I should walk out and help Buck pack the last box, and help Levi get breakfast before the long day.
I lie back down. These are the days that I still feel like a teenager. The days I wish I was still a teenager, whatever that meant. Sometimes it feels like I skipped that part of my life entirely. Or like someone stole it from me. I realize that now. Buck and I felt so guilty about having sex before marriage, and I think I finally understand why we did that. We had sex because we knew we weren’t teenagers anymore. We knew there wasn’t a point in trying to preserve our innocence anymore because the shooting, the restrictions, even Smallpox took it from us. I think we both moved to Odyssey, hoping to decorrupt our brains. Maybe in a tiny town in the middle of Ohio, where there were no con-artists or tycoons to spoil childhood. We were so naive. I miss that.
I finally do get up. I fold the blankets and put everything in a couple white trash bags. Buck comes back into the apartment after helping move a chair.
“Oh hey Jules. You’re up.”
“Yeah,” I nod, “Thanks for letting me sleep in.”
He gives me a small smile and turns to the living room. I think he’s going to say something, but then he clamps his lips together again and asks me where Levi is.
“I guess he’s still asleep. I’ll go get ‘em.”
“Okay.”
He drums the counter with his palms and then picks up another box as I walk to our son’s door, which I knock on and then slowly open.
“Levi?”
He has a sleeping bag in his otherwise empty room. He throws a blanket over his head when I walk in. I laugh. It feels good to laugh.
“What are you doing, kiddo?”
“Ssh! Mom, I’m invisible!”
“Oh, sorry,” I whisper, “Boy, I wonder where Levi is… I hope he hasn’t turned into a superhero with invisibility powers.”
He giggles.
“Cuz you know if he’s invisible, he can’t sit in the big trunk outside.”
“The truck is here?!” He rips off the blanket.
I laugh,
“Yeah! You wanna go check it out?”
He thinks for a second, then shrugs.
“What’s the matter?”
He shrugs again and his bottom lip turns out. He puts the blanket over his head again before I can see his first tear. But I hear them.
“Aw, baby.”
I pull him into my lap, where he buries his face in my chest.
“I don’t wanna go,” he coughs.
I kiss his head as Buck walks in. We exchange empathetic looks, and he joins us on the floor. I lift up Levi’s blanket. He’s wiping his eyes.
“Can you tell the truck to come back tomorrow, daddy?”
He gives a little southern laugh.
“I’m sorry, son. We gotta go today. We’re having a party at Whit’s End, remember?”
He nods.
“But we’re not gonna be at home anymore.”
A few more tears fall. I push them away with my thumb.
“Whit’s End is just gonna be our home for a little while instead. And ya know, Sam is living there too. And Ben, and your grandparents and your aunt Connie and Aunt Eliza. That sounds fun doesn’t it?”
“Do we get lots of ice cream?”
“Yep. And I think we can have ice cream for lunch today if we want to.”
This makes him smile.
“Okay.”
“But first we gotta eat breakfast, right?”
He nods.
We roll up his sleeping bag and set it outside with Buck and I’s bedding. I make eggs and Buck makes bacon and smoothies. After we eat, we go around the apartment and say goodbye to each room, and then pray together.
` Levi gets to sit in the truck while we finish loading the car, and then we leave. And I don’t let myself cry.
EUGENE’S POV
I didn’t sleep last night. I am now experiencing the consequences of that slow yet rash decision. Connie is standing behind the counter and I am in front of it, leaning on it, trying to follow what she is saying.
“So we just need to close off the windows to the doors and get new blinds, right?”
I nod.
“Indeed.”
“Great.”
She makes some notes on the blueprint between us, then pauses.
“Do you want coffee? I was going to make some anyway, and you seem really out of it.”
I shrug.
“Hm. Yes, that would be- excellent. Thank you, Miss Kendall.”
She nods and flips on the coffee maker. I check my watch. It’s eight twenty-eight.
“People will be arriving in approximately half an hour.”
“Okay,” she takes a long breath, and then we make eye contact. And I’m reminded that Constance Kendall understands. Her green eyes are spilling out so many sentences. She knows I couldn’t sleep last night, and she knows that I’ll try to look as energetic as possible all day. She knows I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, and she knows I’m drowning in my own dread. She’s always been able to read me like a book, and it’s usually obnoxious. Today it’s giving me oxygen. She bites her upper lip and folds the blueprint,
“We can do this later.”
Then she walks to the front of the counter and hugs me. And just like when Mr. Whittaker left for the middle east, and when Katrina started dating someone else, and when her mother died, it’s awkward and exactly what we need. Because no one else is in the shop, and that means something. We are simply Connie and Eugene at Whit’s End, for what feels like the last time.
WOOTON’S POV
Swallowing right now makes it feel like there’s a brick in the back of my throat. I force it down anyway. It makes my eyes burn, but then the feeling all stops. I’m blankly staring at the white, dirty, tile floor of the doctor’s office, squeezing my hands together. Penny takes one of them away from the other and puts her other hand on my back. I feel like I’ve snapped in two. Winnie is on the other side of the room, playing with trains like she hasn’t just made my insides twist up like a pretzel. The idea of rushing home to binge-eat snack foods in front of a cartoon from the nineties is suddenly far too appealing. Doctor Peterson is saying a lot. A lot of stuff I’ve heard before. I swallow another brick.
“Do you have any questions at this time?”
“Um,” my voice is louder than I expected it to be, “This medication is supposed to stabilize everything then? That’s- that’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes. It’s just one capsule a day. We want her to feel better. That’s my main goal, and I think that’s you two’s as well.”
“Of course,” Penny says.
I nod.
We pick up a bottle of large pink pills on the way home. Winnie is in the back seat, staring out the window, and I’m staring at the reality I’ve been trying to step around for months. My daughter has anxiety and depression.
We get home and I walk to the bedroom. I’m in a harsh daze, standing next to the bed when Penny walks in. It feels like our roles have been reversed from our last conversation like this. She sits on the bed and puts a pillow on her lap and pats it. I lie down and she puts one hand on my chest and one hand in my hair, then steals my line,
“What are you afraid of?”
“I know what it’s like,” I begin.
“Mhm.”
“I didn’t know she felt as bad as I did.”
I barely notice when a few tears slide down the side of my face. I sniff,
“Oh, Penny I wanted it to be different for her.”
“Wooton, it is. She has medication. You didn’t have anything when you were her age. Wooton, she has parents who love her. She has a dad who loves her. That makes a difference. She’s not broken.”
“I know that, but I never want her to feel like she is. But she already does, I can see it.”
“I think… then maybe it’s our job to love her through that. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll work out.”
She’s braiding a few strands of my hair together. I take a long, shaky breath.
“It will. We should take the night to just relax. Rent a movie.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
We give Winnie her first ice cream serving of antidepressants. Then we sit down and watch a movie together. That night we tuck her in and tell her how special and how beautiful she is like we always do. Penny and I take time to pray and call Buck and Jules to ask how Levi was responding to the same treatment. This routine steadies me a little -enough that I can get to sleep at least. I just wish I could shake this feeling of hopelessness. This stabbing of dread.
VANCE’S POV
Tamika and I step into the Whit’s End library. We take a long, simultaneous breath. So this is our home. I have to admit, it’s at least bigger than I expected. With most of the book shelves out of the way, it’s almost the size of a small apartment without the walls. We have a bathroom and we brought our own mini fridge. I set it next to the bed frame the movers had set up a couple hours ago. Tamika laughs a little.
“It’s… almost like college.”
I nod,
“Yeah cuz you would know what college is like.”
I give her a playful smile on the way out the door. She sets down a box and calls after me,
“You didn’t go to college either!”
We move in more boxes and a couple more furniture pieces. I’m again surprised by how much it actually looks somewhat like a home. We make our bed, and vacuum the carpet. There are no windows, but somehow it’s more comforting that way. We brought a couple lamps with us, and when we shut the door and clicked them on with the lights off, it was somewhat beautiful. With Tamika’s keyboard in one corner, and an arm chair in another, and our desks next to each other. It’s welcoming. It’s about two in the afternoon when we realize we haven’t talked to many of our new house-mates. We got pretty quickly caught up in decorating.
So we go out to the eating area of the front of the shop, and it’s chaotic, but there’s an overall positive energy. People seem to actually enjoy the idea of living together, and I feel the same way. I turn to Tamika and smile. She smiles back.
