"Well," Cami said, an eye on the sky. "I don't think we’re going to be in for any weather today…and there's plenty of daylight left.”
"I can go with her, Cami-san,” Mitch said. “You know, for protection and all,” he added quickly.
Cami hid a smile and nodded gratefully at Mitch. She took a moment to look him up and down and concluded that while he was skinny as a beanpole, he had a certain air of wiry strength about him. Weaklings didn't regularly hike the Appalachian Trail. She nodded. "Well, I suppose it's okay by me. Why don’t you pick some of everything,” she said with a gesture at the baskets, “and you two can put it all in backpacks."
"Why don't we just carry these over?" asked Amber as she pointed at the basket. "Seems like a lot of wasted effort to take them all out of the baskets that we just filled, then put them in backpacks, just to walk across the neighborhood…”
Cami grinned. "What were you saying about inexperienced?" She pointed down at the baskets. "These baskets scream “rob me, I have more supplies than I need.” That's not the kind of attention I want to draw on us, especially with you two out walking around and me home alone.”
"We’ve got guns, remember?" Amber said. She turned to proudly display the pistol strapped to her waist.
Cami frowned. "Carrying a firearm doesn't give you the right to be careless with your personal safety. It's not some kind of magical talisman that will ward off evil. You guys just scratched the surface on what it means to be responsible firearm owners.”
"Does that mean you want us to take them off before we leave?" asked Mitch. "I'm okay with that—I mean, it's cool and all to have it, but it is kinda heavy, and I'm not 100% comfortable with that yet.”
"It's not that I don't trust you,” Cami said carefully, “but you guys are just too inexperienced to turn loose on the neighborhood carrying weapons—after only a couple hours of practice." Cami looked past the yard out to the street. The neighborhood was quiet and had been so for the past two days, after the initial rush of people who packed up and fled. The second night after the tsunami there had been gunshots, but oddly enough, after that Bee’s Landing had been quiet. Cami was still on the fence about whether that was a good thing, but it was something.
"I suppose," she breathed, and yielded to the pleading looks on Mitch and Amber’s faces. "It'll be okay. Just…” Cami could hardly bring herself to tell her daughter to disarm before she walked across the neighborhood. "Just take off the guns and leave them with me,” she said. “It’ll be fine,” she said more to herself. “I’ll keep picking vegetables until lunch. When you guys get back, we should be able to wrap up this afternoon—assuming there's no rain."
"Sounds good," Mitch said. He unbuckled the holster at his waist, coiled the straps around the weapon, and handed it over to Cami. Amber did likewise, then the two of them disappeared inside the house to fetch backpacks.
A blue jay squawked at her from one of the pines that bordered the forest preserve. Cami looked up at it and frowned. "Oh, don't start. They'll be fine. They’re just going across the neighborhood to drop off some vegetables.” The jay screeched again. Cami frowned. “They’re coming right back. Look at them, they're practically adults, and Mitch is probably a lot stronger than I am.” The jay squawked at her again then flew off in a huff, continuing to call out as it disappeared deeper into the forest preserve.
Cami looked down at the two weapons in her hands and scoffed. "Get it together, Lavelle. Only four days into this—whatever it is—and you're already talking to birds. They'll be fine."
Moments later, Amber and Mitch erupted from the back of the house and bounded down the deck steps to the yard, laughing. Cami went over ground rules with them while they loaded bags with vegetables. "No stopping at anybody else's house—if somebody comes out to talk, make sure you stay on the road at the end of the driveway."
"Geez mom, don't forget stranger danger," Amber quipped. "I seriously doubt anybody in the neighborhood’s going to try to kidnap us. Most of the people here are your age or older.”
"What's that supposed to mean?" Cami demanded. "You don't think somebody my age," she said, making air quotes with her fingers, "can take down one of you whippersnappers?"
Mitch looked up from his bag, stared at her for a second, then smiled. "Okay, boomer."
Cami pointed at him. "Get your generations right! I'm not a boomer, that's my parents!"
"You sure sound like one," Amber scoffed playfully.
Cami couldn't help but crack a grin. "Okay, okay—you guys are big enough to take care of yourselves, I get it. But I'm still gonna worry about you. I'm your mother," she said to Amber, then looked at Mitch. "And you’re kind of like the son that I never had.” She exhaled. “I’m gonna worry about you two, that's all."
"We’ll be fine, mom," Amber said.
"We won't talk to anybody or stop anywhere along the way. We'll just go straight to Mia's house, drop the stuff off, see how they're doing, and come home."
Cami nodded. "I know you guys’ll be fine. You can grab one of the small first aid kits…”
Amber grinned as she opened the front pouch on her backpack. She reached in and pulled out the first aid kit Cami had suggested. "Got it, mom," she said. "We’re good. Seriously."
"Okay, okay!” Cami said in surrender, her hands up. "Go on then—be careful—and hurry back."
To prove she was unconcerned, Cami turned her back before they left and
