tomorrow.”
“Do you trust in tomorrow?” I asked.
“I have to,” he said. “For Julie’s sake.”
“But you don’t trust in us,” I said. “To look after Julie.”
He answered with silence.
“You don’t trust in anything, either,” I said. “Not really. Your God, your church, your tomorrow. You don’t even trust Carlos. You’re just doing what he tells you because it’s easier.”
“That’s not true,” Alex said. “You don’t understand.”
“I do understand,” I said. “But I don’t care. I’m not a dream girl. I’m a real human being with real feelings. How can I trust tomorrow? Tomorrow terrifies me. I wake up every morning scared and I go to bed every night scared, and all those tomorrows I’ve lived through are exactly the same. Hunger and fear and loneliness. Exactly the same as you, as everybody. Only you’re worse, because when we ask you to share our hunger and our fear and our loneliness, you turn your back on us. I may be lonely and scared and hungry, but I haven’t given up on loving people yet. You have. Or maybe you never loved anyone. Maybe all your life was dreams.”
Alex grabbed me. I knew he would. I knew he’d kiss me, and he did, and I kissed back. Only it wasn’t a dream-girl kiss. It wasn’t a kiss of love or even excitement, not the way I’ve been kissed before.
There was so much anger in his kiss. In mine, too. We shared it, the electric volt, and when we broke away from each other, we were both shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.” He gestured wildly, as though he was taking responsibility for the last horrible year of my life.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It was just a dream.”
I walked the rest of the way home alone.
I was nervous someone would suggest that Alex and I go into town to get our food, but Dad and Jon ended up going instead.
Alex and Julie came over this evening to thank us for our hospitality and to say good-bye. Julie looked a wreck and Alex didn’t look much better, and when they left, Jon ran to his room and hasn’t come out since.
I wish Alex would go already. I wish he would never leave.
Chapter 13
The first official day of summer.
I checked the thermometer and it was close to 60. But then it started to rain, and it never stopped.
Jon spent the day sulking. I did, too. Matt and Syl spent it in their room, but I doubt they were sulking.
I don’t know if Alex and Julie left. He was so determined, but the weather was awful.
I could have gone to Dad’s to find out, but I didn’t want Alex to know I cared. Assuming he’s still there. Which he probably isn’t, because he’s a total idiot who would take his sister out in a hurricane if his big brother told him to.
The last living boy in America can go to hell for all I care. Except I do care, and he’s probably already there.
It’s still raining.
Charlie dropped over to talk mysteries with Mom. “Alex and Julie haven’t left yet,” he said. “Julie’s developed a bit of a cough. We were wondering if you had any cough medicine around.”
Mom gave Jon what little we have left, and he raced over with it. He didn’t come back until after supper.
The third straight day of rain. Jon says Alex and Julie haven’t left yet.
My guess is rain or snow, they’ll go tomorrow. And I’ll be glad. Not for Jon, who’ll be heartbroken, or for Julie. Not for Alex, either, because I don’t care what he feels.
I’ll be glad for me. Once Alex is gone, I’ll never have to think of him again. I’ll throw him onto the mound of bodies and forget I ever met him.
Why not? He’s already forgotten me.
It stopped raining. The ground is nothing but mud.
“I don’t see how they could possibly go,” Mom said to Matt and Jon and me at our rice and beans breakfast. “The convent is ninety miles from here. That’s a four-day walk.”
“They might be able to pick up bikes on the way,” Matt said.
“They still have to find them,” Mom said. “And who knows where they’ll sleep. They’ve got to wait for things to dry out before they go.”
That was all Jon needed to hear. Off he ran.
“I hope they’re gone,” Matt said. “The longer they stay, the harder it’s going to be on Jon. And I’ll be just as glad never to see Alex again.”
“Why do you say that?” Mom asked.
“He’s a parasite,” Matt said. “He’s a danger chopping wood. I’m always worried he’s going to cut off one of his fingers or one of mine. I don’t think he’s done a day’s worth of physical labor in his life. He sits and he reads and he eats our food. Which we’ll run out of soon enough anyway.”
“It’s thanks to Alex we have food,” I said. “He’s the one who found it and figured out how to get it back here. He was the one who made us search the whole house.” I pictured the half-eaten man and shuddered.
“It’s great you found all that food,” Matt said. “But it isn’t going to happen again. In the meantime Alex eats what little we have. And I don’t like the way he plays up to Dad.”
“He doesn’t play up to Dad,” I said. “Dad loves him. There’s a difference.”
“Why does Dad love him, then?” Matt said. “It’s not because of anything he does.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But Dad loves Syl, too, and she doesn’t do anything, either.”
“Miranda,” Mom said, but it was too late.
“Don’t you ever speak about my wife that way!” Matt shouted. “She’s given up everything to be with me!”
“To get your food, you mean!” I shouted right back. “To have a place to sleep and people who wait on her hand and foot!”
We were sitting on the floor around the woodstove. Matt lunged for me.
“Matt, stop it!” Mom screamed, and I think that startled Matt into stopping. I got up and ran out of the sunroom, down the path to Mrs. Nesbitt’s.
Matt’s my big brother. We used to fight when we were kids. But he always knew when to stop.
This time I don’t think he would have known when.
I found Alex standing outside the house, checking the sky, examining the mud. I ran straight into his arms, and before I could catch my breath, we were kissing. No rage this time. Just hunger and need.
“No,” he said. At least that’s what I think he said. I know I wouldn’t have thought it on my own.
“Stay with us,” I said. “Don’t leave me.”
“I have to,” he said. “Julie can’t stay here. We’ve got to go.”
“But I don’t want you to!” I cried like a five-year-old.
Alex kissed me and I didn’t feel five anymore. I wasn’t a kid having a tantrum because someone took my favorite toy. I was a woman, and this was the man I wanted, and I was losing him.
We held on to each other, not wanting the moment to end, because when it did, our life together would also end. Our kisses grew deeper, our hands explored more, we gave each other all we could in that single passing moment.
