Chapter 12: Day One

Rebecca shook her. Sarah roused slowly, murmuring displeasure. Somewhere a rooster crowed, greeting the morning. Rebecca shook her again and Sarah finally opened her eyes.

“I’m awake,” Sarah groaned. Her body still registered unusual sexual arousal.

“We’ll miss breakfast,” Rebecca said. Around them, women were stretching and rising, all unabashedly naked. Some offered a cheerful good morning. Sarah hesitated before throwing the sheet from her own nudity. Shame here seemed counterproductive. Everyone in sight was without clothes, and nobody else seemed in the least concerned by it. The streets hadn’t permitted Sarah shyness, but neither did she feel any need to exhibit herself without cause. The casual nudity in the light of morning created a strange incongruity in her world vision; she certainly wasn’t in Kansas any more.

Rebecca led Sarah from the bunkhouse ahead of most of the others. As she emerged naked and barefoot outside, Sarah felt a flush rise, but nobody paid her nudity any heed, and the sun gently warmed her skin as they walked briskly to the showers. Inside, a few women stood beneath communal waterfalls, quickly soaping and washing pine needles from tangled sleep hair. Rebecca and Sarah shared an available shower, quickly washing and drying off. Sarah thought it somewhat odd that they walked barefoot along dirt trails to their next destination after washing, mentally shrugging. She was accustomed to being dirty. Showering with Rebecca held far more appeal than being ogled by Hans at the Y.

At a smaller structure, Rebecca ushered Sarah in where John handed them clean coveralls, socks and work boots. Carrying their clothes, the women returned outside to dress in the sunshine. Sarah was surprised that the work clothes and boots fit her perfectly.

“Is every morning like this?”

“Pretty much, except in winter. There isn’t as much to do in winter so we rise later, and walking barefoot to clothing storage is much more uncomfortable. Most often, they bring the clothes to the bunkhouse in winter if there’s snow.”

Others pulled on similar work clothes about them, chatting and smiling. When Sarah finished lacing up her boots, they proceeded to the mess hall, where dinner had been the previous evening. They chose the same table. The same table mates filtered in.

Before they ate, Brady stood and offered grace. Along with everyone else, Sarah found herself bowing her head and reciting: “Amen”. Even before the streets, she had never embraced grace, but it seemed natural and reassuring here.

Breakfast consisted of squeezed orange juice, fresh fried eggs and crisp bacon. Sarah noted that there was no coffee anywhere. She didn’t drink coffee, she couldn’t afford coffee, but she was surprised that none seemed available here. Even without caffeine, everyone seemed awake and ready to begin the day.

Before entering the corn field, Rebecca paused.

“I think she must have passed through here,” she said cryptically.

“Who?”

“An old friend of mine. I miss her.”

Sarah didn’t understand, but nodded. “I hope she’s okay.”

Rebecca gazed off at the forest beyond the other side of the field.

“She isn’t.”

Sarah sipped at a reusable metal water container as she sat on the ground in the shade with Rebecca. They had both removed their boots and socks, toes loose in the soft grass. Her fingers smelled like corn, there was no sign of smog in the air, and a gentle breeze caressed her face. At the base of the hill, corn stalks marched on forever.

“It’s times like these that I remember why I came here,” Rebecca said wistfully, flexing her toes. She said it as if there might be times where she didn’t remember why she was here.

Rebecca looked at Sarah critically.

“Why are you here, Sarah?”

Sarah considered. She had no idea why she was here. Because Brady asked her? Because she wanted to be with Brady? Because it was more stable than the streets of the city? Because she wanted to belong somewhere? Because she needed shelter?

She shrugged. “I’m really not sure.”

Rebecca seemed to accept the non-answer, switching tacks.

“Who are you, then?”

“I’m Sarah,” she replied glibly.

“I know that, but that’s not even your real name. I meant: what did you do before you came here with our fearless leader?”

Sarah didn’t know how Rebecca could possibly know that Sarah wasn’t her birth name. She hadn’t even told Brady either her former name or that Sarah was a street name.

“I was living on the streets,” Sarah admitted.

“And Brady found you there?”

Sarah nodded. Lost in a crowded train station, drawing and begging for spare change.

“Why were you living on the streets?”

So many reasons.

“Let’s just say that Mom liked Uncle Patrick and vodka a lot more than me. And I think Uncle Patrick liked Mr. Daniels and me a lot more than Mom. The street seemed a better option than staying at home.”

“So you came here to escape the streets?”