Chapter 11

Sometimes Clipper got hungry for the open road. He’d never consider going, of course, with Girl and the stability the cabin gave him. He’d never expose her to that danger. But he’d always loved to travel, loved to see new things. He realized that this was very nearly the longest he’d stayed in one place since the Fall. Of course he didn’t mind, he was happier than he’d ever been in his whole life, thanks to Girl. All he wanted was to stay here and finish his life out, holding her in his arms every night. But he still wished he could travel the area, at least. See what was over the next hill. It was a habit, almost.

One day, he was pawing through a drawer in the kitchen, looking for something to sharpen knives with, when he realized what the paper lining the drawer was made of. He emptied the drawer, and carefully pulled out the paper. It was a map, an old worn, torn, tattered yellowed map. And, to his glee, it was a map of the whole state. He was familiar with the area, having grown up near here, but having a map was great. Something he could judge scale by. He laid it out on the kitchen table, and spent the rest of the evening poring over it. Girl snorted at him, but he just smiled and bent over the map.

He found the mountain fairly accurately portrayed, and Devonsville was right where it should be. He found what he wanted to find, Wellston. Maybe three or four miles southeast of Devonsville. Interesting. He began to plan a long journey, maybe an overnight one.

That evening he assembled some supplies, and found his old backpack. He packed two blankets in it, and a few days supply of beef jerky. That night, he told Girl of his plans to scout the area, without telling her of his real intentions. He felt slightly guilty about it, this was the first time he’d consciously deceived her, but he felt like what he was trying to do was important. He just hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t cause him to lose her. He didn’t actually worry that it would, since the way she had talked made it seem that she wasn’t anxious to return to her people. After the things Ableard had said about the breakdowns in social services and society in general he didn’t think he could be forced to give her up by her folk. He was confident Girl had every intention of staying with him. But he felt like she needed to see her people again, to let them know she was okay. He just wasn’t sure how she’d react when she realized what was going on.

The next morning, bright and early, he grabbed his bow, and they set out. He wished he had a way to lock the cabin, but he just had to trust the dogs would do well on guard duty. They hadn’t let him down yet. They headed off down the mountain, sometimes led or sometimes followed by Bear.

Fall was just around the corner. He could feel it in the air. The morning was brisk and cool. He felt young, walking along beside her, holding her hand. Last night had been a wild one with her. He was glad, that meant it was short and sweet, along with wild. He felt like he’d gotten enough sleep for once. Sleeping with her was hard on him at times, because not a lot of sleeping got done. It wasn’t like they had sex the whole time, often she slept, and he just lay there and held her, drinking her in, loving her. He realized sometimes that he was worshiping her. He did it for hours, just watching her breathe in and out. That would be enough for him, if that’s all he had. It had been for a long time, he remembered. But now ... now he had it all. He never thought he’d be this happy, before the Fall or after. But he knew the dangers in happiness, he knew how easy it was for it to be taken away. He could not imagine living with the desolation again, if she left him. He knew he would not survive it. He couldn’t, at this stage.

He watched her as she walked. He liked to let her get a few feet ahead of him, so he could watch her butt as she walked. She looked fine in jeans. She had a fine butt. This is why the bad guys get the drop on you every time, he told himself, all you do is stare at her butt when you should be paying attention to your surroundings. It was a hard habit to break, though.

They quickly came to Devonsville, and walked down the main street to the diner. It was breakfast time, and pretty much the whole town was assembled in the diner, as usual. They left Bear outside to guard his backpack and bow, and he found Ableard, who invited them to sit at his table. They ordered, and sat, and passed a pleasant hour talking and listening to the local gossip. Finally, he stood, and Girl followed, standing also.

“Ableard. It’s been fun, but we’re hitting the road. We’re going exploring, on down the mountain, and to the East a bit. We’ll see you around, okay?”

His plan was to actually go East, for a while, and then go South and back West. He didn’t know if he could fool her, but he was going to try.

They all shook hands, and Clipper and Girl collected Bear and his gear and departed. They left town, still heading South, angling off to the East as the day progressed. Clipper didn’t want to just march directly to Wellston, that would be too obvious. He wanted it to look like an accident. Girl was no dummy, though.

“Are you taking me to Wellston?” she said, conversationally, as they walked through the tall grass of a meadow.

Shit. So much for the accident part, he thought.

“Girl. We’ll be in the area. I think it’s only right to stop in, and see your grammaw, at least. Let her know you’re alright. It’s the right thing to do.”

Girl was silent. They walked further and further down the mountain. Clipper wondered for the millionth time what was going through her head.

She stopped, and turned to him.

“I’ll do this for you, just because you’ve done so much for me,” she said, staring into his eyes, her face set.

“Thank you,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“If I thought you were taking me back to stay, I’d gut you,” she said, and he had a hard time keeping a straight face, although he knew that she was serious.

“Girl.” He said, stopping and hugging her against his body. He felt like crying. “Girl, what did these people do to you? Why have you turned your back on them?”

“It ... it wasn’t me...” she said, “it was the other girl. They didn’t treat her ... right. Sometimes she got beat on and shit. They didn’t care about her much.”

“Girl. The people that didn’t treat her well ... were they the people that died, of the plague?”

That was good for another five minutes of walking and thinking. Jeezus, he thought. I’m just ready to know this stuff, though. I want to know more about her. And she needs to work this stuff out of her head, and if I can help her, I should.

“Yes, mostly.” She said. That was all? That was the end result of five minutes of deep thought?

“Well, when they died, that died with them. Girl, you need to forgive and forget. Well, don’t forget, don’t let it happen again, but don’t let it run or ruin your life. You have to get over this stuff, or it just sits in your brain and festers and bleeds. Forgive them, and move on. They’ve moved on, right?”

“Right.” she said. They walked another few minutes in silence.

“Clipper.”

“What?”

“You said they’ve moved on. Where did they move too?”

Oh, jeezus. A philosophical discussion, now? As they tramped through the woods? Now she suddenly wants to talk fast? He had no idea what she believed, if anything. He’d never talked to her about church, or God, or what he or she believed. He wasn’t sure if this was a good time, just because probably not enough time would be available. Wellston was only three or four more miles down the mountain. Good grief.

“Girl. I have to be honest with you. I have no idea. I have no idea what’s out there, what comes next.”

Amazingly, she came right back at him. Shit, he thought, she smells blood, like a shark. She’s already moving in for the kill.

“Clipper. You have strong ideas about stuff. You don’t have one about this?”

“Girl, I really don’t. I haven’t spent a lot of time on it. You know that I’m not a deeply religious person. You’ve spent enough time with me to know that. But I don’t want to change what you believe. I want you to be comfortable with your ... ideas. Your beliefs. I don’t want to spoil anything for you.”

“I don’t have any beliefs,” she said, “the other girl did, but I don’t.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but that kind of describes me. I may not be right, but I just don’t know. I’m ... what’s the word? Agnostic? There’s something out there, but I don’t think that any of the organized religions have it right.”

She thought for another hundred footsteps. Lord, he thought, conversations with her can be wearying, at times.

“You remember what it was like before you were born?” she finally said. What a nonsensical question, he thought, but he treated it seriously.

“No, Girl. I don’t.”

“That’s what it’s like after you die.” She said. She didn’t say anything else for the next mile. He guessed the conversation was over. He understood what she was trying to say, but he felt a twinge of sympathy for her, that she didn’t have some special, faith-based belief to sustain her. He knew she was strong, though, she’d proved that to him. He felt like he understood her just a little bit better. He felt like that every day.

He let Girl guide them. She took them, unerringly, straight to Wellston. They came out of the trees, and stood before a road that curved slightly, and led right into town. Maybe a hundred assorted houses and buildings. He was surprised Wellston had showed on the old map, it was so tiny. Girl never slowed down, she just arrowed into town.

They walked down a small main street. Not a soul was in sight. The buildings were old, old ... from way before way before the Fall, not just simply way before the Fall. Jeezus, he thought. Amazingly, a burned out car even sat beside the road. Nobody cared enough to even clean the messes up. Girl turned onto a side street, and headed for a battered, dilapidated house. She was marching like a soldier, now, he thought. She was resolute. She had a purpose. He wondered if she was eager to see her people, or if she just wanted to get it over to please him, and then move on.

He followed her right up the porch, and she went right into the house without knocking. Shit, he thought, hoping they didn’t get shot. He followed her, of course, after dropping his pack and telling Bear to stay.

“Grammaw!” It was the loudest noise he had ever heard her make, and it made him jump. She turned to him, holding her arms out like she was saying, “See? Nobody home...” when they heard a shuffling noise from the hallway, and out of the dimness a woman emerged. She was old, tired and worn, Clipper would have guessed her age to be anywhere between 50 and 80. Mountain people just aged like that, you couldn’t always tell. The woman looked like she’d been through a lot. It showed on her face.

There was dead silence for a while. The woman just stared at them, mostly at Girl. She opened her trembling mouth, and said, “lawd ... mercy, lawd, chile ... is it really you? Analisa? Is it really you?”

Girl suddenly shrieked, and stumbled forward, wrapping her hands around the little woman. Clipper could hear her sobbing, and the woman sobbed back. Shit, thought Clipper, I am so out of here. He slowly backed up and went back out on the porch, sitting on a dangerous looking porch swing. He heard occasional wails and weeping through the screen beside him, but he ignored it. He felt tears in his eyes several times, but he wiped his eyes, petted the dog and thought about other things.

He figured a half hour had passed, when Girl opened the screen door. She was dry-eyed now at least. She motioned brusquely, and he stood up and went back in the house. He followed her into the kitchen and sat in a chair. Girl somewhat possessively sat in his lap and they watched as the old woman began to cut up a chicken.

“Bill Maize ... you remember him? You remember his daughter Jessi? She is having a baby in October, I think ... they moved into the Platt place just the other day, to be ready for it...”

Girl nodded at the woman’s stories. The stories went on for quite a while. Finally the woman lapsed into silence.

“Grammaw.” Girl said quickly, to get some words in edgewise. “This is Clipper. He saved my life, more than once. I live with him now, like I said.”

The old woman stopped, and regarded him for a moment. He could tell she was no simpleton, by now. He knew she was survivor, and that she probably thrived under conditions that would kill a flat-lander. These mountain folk were like that. They were used to hardship. This woman, he thought, she is no stranger to hard times. Civilization fell? The country went to hell? No problem for her, no real difference, the way she lived. The woman was a survivor.

“Pleased to meecha,” the woman said, approaching. Clipper shook her bony little claw. “Much obliged, you taking care of the girl.”

“It was ... no problem. My pleasure,” he said, carefully. He didn’t want to give too much away. He wished Girl hadn’t sat on his lap so flagrantly. He felt like she was daring the woman to notice. Of course the woman noticed. Her sharp eyes probably noticed things he’d never see.