“Thank you, thank you, sir. I can work for you. I can do many things,” the man said as he and his boy walked toward the front porch.
“Hold up now,” Calvin said with his hand raised. “What’re your names?”
“My name is Carlos, and this is Salvador,” the man said, introducing himself and his son.
“My name is Calvin, and the fine lady there is Shannon. Inside is a little girl, and her name is Essie. We have three more men who live here who are out hunting right now, so you can get to know them when they get home,” Calvin finished.
Shannon was already in the house, preparing a meal she thought would add much-needed vitamins to the young boy’s body. She went to the cache of canned goods and chose spinach, carrots and a jar of mixed fruit. When she returned, Carlos and Salvador were sitting at the table along with Calvin, the machete resting next to the door with the rest of the larger weapons. The two newcomers appeared very uncomfortable in their present setting, but their hunger stopped them from leaving.
Shannon placed the food on the sink top, then remembered she’d forgotten Essie.
“Essie baby, come out. We have guests for dinner,” she said, raising her voice just enough to be heard down the hallway. A moment later Essie came out, stopped at the threshold to the living room, and suspiciously surveyed their dinner guests.
When Essie’s eyes locked onto Salvador, she looked away shyly.
“Come on in, Essie. Sit down and finish eating,” Shannon coaxed.
Essie put her fingers to her mouth, tugging lightly at the corner, then slowly moved to her position at the table. She did not, however, resume eating, electing instead to stare at their guests through untrusting eyes.
“When was the last time you two had a decent meal?” Shannon asked as she began removing the tops of all three food containers.
“Two weeks, maybe more, I don’t know. We eat in the woods, some food, maybe—how do you say, ah, lizards and, ah, worms. Things we find on the ground,” Carlos said, his accent showing through more now that he was outside his comfort zone.
Shannon’s mouth dropped slightly; then she caught herself and resumed the food preparations. She made two bowls filled with vegetables and fruit for the two guests. She would make them something with some carbs in the morning, but for now she wanted to give them something that wasn’t processed since they’d admittedly been eating unprocessed lizards and worms for the past two weeks or more.
Shannon served Carlos and his son and warned them about eating too fast. She waited, and when Carlos didn’t translate, she gave him a quizzical look. “Does he speak English?” she asked.
Carlos looked at his son and then back at Shannon and nodded. “Yes, he speaks. He was born here. He went to school before—before the bad thing.”
Shannon looked at Salvador, who stared back placidly for a second until he turned his attention to the bowl of food in front of him. For the most part the two guests ate slowly until their bowls were empty.
After they were finished eating, Carlos looked around nervously. “We can sleep outside, and I will work in the morning?”
Shannon looked at Calvin, who got to his feet, walked to a cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of Blanton’s whiskey along with three glasses. He turned and held the glasses up for Shannon to see, but she shook her head. Calvin replaced a glass and returned to the table, where he set one glass in front of Carlos and the second in front of himself.
“No, I don’t think you should sleep outside, Carlos. I wanna hear your story, my friend. I wanna have a little drink and hear where you came from and what you’ve been through.” When Calvin finished, he poured Carlos three fingers as the man held up his hands in protest. Calvin ignored the man’s reluctance, finished pouring, then filled his own glass.
Darkness had officially fallen as the candlelight danced on Carlos’s troubled face. Calvin could tell the man had seen tough times since the solar flare, and maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it in front of Salvador.
“Tell ya what, friend, we can put the kids to bed—in real beds with real blankets—and then we can talk. How’s that sound?”
Carlos seemed to relax nominally after Calvin’s proposition, nodding his head slightly in compliance more than agreement.
Calvin took the nearly imperceptible gesture as a yes. “Good, let’s finish up eating, get them washed up, and off to bed, then.”
Carlos nodded his head again submissively, which bothered Calvin. The man was ready to sleep outside with his son, kept talking about paying them with work, and acted like he couldn’t have been more uncomfortable, when all Shannon and he had done was open their home to Carlos and shown him a level of hospitality that would have garnered awards even before the event.
Calvin shook his head internally. “Let’s you and me go get some water so they can clean up.”
Calvin grabbed his shotgun and the five-gallon bucket used for washing as the men exited the house, and noticed Carlos failed to retrieve his machete. Calvin wasn’t quite ready to give the man a firearm, but also didn’t feel it was right for anyone to go stomping about the countryside unarmed, day or night.
“Grab your sword, friend,” Calvin barked, waiting on the porch so Carlos could arm himself.
Carlos hesitated for a moment, then snatched the machete from inside the doorjamb and followed Calvin off the porch. Calvin showed Carlos to the creek, where he filled the bucket. Carlos insisted on carrying the heavy load of water back to the house, and Calvin reluctantly relinquished his hold on the bucket’s handle. When they returned to the house, the children were finished eating and sat on the couch in an uncomfortable silence while Shannon straightened up the kitchen.
“Hey, can I steal
