INFECtIOUS (11 page)

I suddenly
remember the other thing I need to tell them.

"Wait!
There is one other thing. Matt, Thomas' brother, I don't think he came in
through a gate. He doesn't look much like a
zomb
—"
I catch myself again, "like one of them because the disease isn't very
advanced on him, so I guess someone could've let him through carelessly. But
there should've been an escort right?"
 

The men all nod
in the affirmative like bobble-head dolls.
 

"Well, he
didn't explain, but I am pretty sure he came in somewhere else. And I think
someone should check the fence for holes. Or maybe a ladder or a tree branch he
could've used to come over it?"

"Thank you
Ivy. You are a bright girl
which
is why I'm glad to
have you as a secretary," Dr.
Talmurf
says with
a kind smile and a conspiratorial wink.

"We will
need to discuss all of this and consider how to investigate further," says
the always calm Rev.
Depold
. "I am very thankful
to have both of you back safe and sound and, for now, you are excused. Please
don't leave the community for any reason until further notice. Also, please be
available to answer more questions should we need to call you back again. Thank
you."

That's our cue
to leave I guess. I thought we'd have more involvement in their discussions. I
don't really want to be talked about and decided on without my knowledge.
Without some input on my own fate.
We are standing up and
leaving but I'm not happy about it.
 

Rev.
Depold
, still holding on to my photograph, calls out
"God bless!" as the door closes behind us.
 

I hope He does.

Sister Bear
And
The Evil Grannies

Filled with
frustration, newfound fears, and a million questions all fighting to be heard
and answered in my weary brain, I walk quickly to the front door. I just need
to go. I don't know where, but I need to go. My legs need to walk. I yearn for
some distraction. My emotions are raw and I don't want to cry. I wish I had
somewhere to go to other than the Inn. I reach the doors and realize Aunty
isn't with me. I turn around to see her heading the other direction and she
calls out for me to wait for her outside. I don't know what other business she
has here this morning, but that isn't surprising. We don't feel the need to run
every detail past each other. She must be coming out any minute because she
would've told me to wait inside where it's warm if her errand had any potential
of keeping her long.

I wait for her
out on the front steps in the frosty cool air. I'm trying to process everything
and the hugeness of it threatens to overload my already damaged emotions. I
want to feel afraid, but I know I need to trust. I want to cry, but I've done
enough of that in the last twenty-four hours and I've resolved to be done with
weakness. I take deep breaths of the freezing air and it burns my lungs. The
burn feels good, the stinging pain in my lungs somehow lessening the pain in my
stomach. It's weird that pain feels good. I
breath
deeply again and hold the cold air in longer—relishing the distraction of my
lungs being on fire.

Last year, a
girl in our community lost her whole family in a fire. It went around the
community that her new guardians found her cutting herself. I remember how
badly I thought of her, how judgmental I was. I remember thinking,
"Doesn't she know that was God's plan for her? Why doesn't she just trust
Him? He'll obviously take care of her." She killed herself not long after
that. I judged her for that too. Now, I desperately wish she had made it
through. If she couldn't handle life, maybe I can't either.

What if Pravda
comes for me and I die in a lab as one of their experiments? As the door swings
open behind me, I turn expecting Aunty but run right into Chuck Fox. His eyes
bulge at me like they might pop out of his head and his normally cheerful face
looks yellow and sick.

"Chuck! I'm
sorry,
I didn't mean to block the door. I'm waiting
for Aunty. Are you alright? You look terrible."
 

Foot
in mouth as usual.
I mean that he looks sick, but I don't know if he takes it that
way.

"Oh—Ivy—uh,
yeah, I was just seeing the Doc. I got a little bug or something. I'll be fine.
How
ya
doing kid? I heard you had a close call
yesterday."
 

I guess the news
has gone all around. I wish everyone didn't know. It's so embarrassing.
 

"Good thing
your Aunt is quick on her toes, eh? What a woman."
 

He shakes his
head and looks at his feet. His embarrassment is cute, so smitten with my
Aunty. He seemed so lost when he got here a few months ago. Still deeply
grieving his wife. The first time I met him, he looked desperate. I think Aunty
must remind him of his late wife or something because he
fell
hard and quick for her the moment he saw her. In recent weeks he's looked happy
every time I see him, like a man who suddenly has hope for the future. I wish I
knew the feeling.

"Well, I'll
see
ya
around Ivy. You be careful now ok?"

He meets my eyes
and stares hard into them with his friendly warning. His gaze has a fatherly
feel. If Aunty ever caves, I guess he'd be like a father figure to me. I would
like to take comfort in his kindness, but the serious look in his eyes reminds
me how much trouble I'm in and an involuntary chill runs down my spine.

"I hope you
feel better soon," I call after him as he walks quickly, head down, away
from me. "I'll pray for you."
 

He doesn't turn
around or say "thanks," just shuffles away towards his apartment down
the block. I hope he's not too sick. There aren't a lot of medicines left at
the clinic and the government shipments that come to
Toccoa
don't have anything more than what you'd find in a first aid kit. Things like
bandaids
,
tylenol
,
gauze, and rubbing alcohol. The sorts of things people with oozing, open wounds
might need.

We've cleared
out all the local abandoned pharmacies—there were two of them within our gated sanctuary—but
Aunty says we are running low on everything. A trip out of town will be needed
again soon and, in light of my recent debacle, the Elders won't want to send
anyone out unless it's extremely necessary. I hope Chuck doesn't need more than
some rest and some
tylenol
.
Maybe Aunty and I should make him some soup with the left over fat and
trimmings from the venison.

Here I go again.
Why do I always do this?

I always feel
responsible for everything. It's not my fault we were attacked, not my fault
that it's not safe to leave town, not my fault we are low on medicine, not my
fault Chuck is sick. But I feel like it all
is,
every
bit of it. I feel like making Chuck soup will somehow make me feel
better,
assuage me of some of the responsibility. I don't
know why I always feel so burdened. I would call it a God thing, blame it on
convictions or something, but I don't think it is. No one else tries to make
everybody else's problems their own. If anything, thinking I'm the answer to
everyone's problems is prideful. I think it's called a savior complex. I wish
tylenol
could fix it.
 

A minute later,
Aunty comes out of the front doors with a bundle in her arms. It's a man's
winter coat.
 

"I got this
from the clothing bank," she looks at me as though it's obvious, but I
look blankly back at her.
 

"That's a
man's coat, Aunty. Do you need a new coat?"

"Oh Ivy,
it's for Matt. Didn't you notice how cold he was? I guess you have a lot on
your mind right now dear, huh?"
 

I am ashamed
because I did notice and I didn't much care, so I say nothing. I'd rather she
think I was self-absorbed than know the truth of it. I'm down-right mean.
 

"Why don't
you leave it with the Elders? Won't they be seeing him soon? Which one of them
is taking him to see Thomas?"

"Oh."
Long pause. "Didn't I tell you dear? We are."
 

She rushes into
her reasoning, knowing me well enough to know an argument is coming.
 

"I mean, I
feel responsible for the boy and I genuinely like him. I think he's a good man,
you know, all things considered."
 

I'm about to
voice my most recent rant about zombies and how much I don't want anything to
do with them, when she blurts out her next reprimand.

"Oh and by
the way, I can't
believe
you called
that man a zombie right in front of the Reverend! Ivy, I've told you so many
times not to call them that! I should've reminded you again I
suppose."
 

She shakes her
head in a loving, "
tsk
tsk
,
shame on you" kind of way.
Silly, sweet, dumb Ivy.
I feel myself getting more depressed by the minute. I accept my fate and slump
after her towards the gate to pick up her new pet.

I remember
reading a
Berenstien
Bears book about strangers when
I was a little girl. Sister Bear goes to the park with Brother Bear and the
whole world is her friend. The birds wear happy faces, the old ladies on the
park bench are sweet little grannies with big smiles,
even
the bunnies in their holes are smiling sweetly at her. "Hi!" she
calls out to everyone she meets. Brother Bear runs home to tattle on her for
talking to strangers. Mama Bear tells her that even though someone looks nice
on the outside they can be rotten like an apple on the inside. The next day at
the park, Sister looks around and sees only scary faces. The birds have evil
grins and dark eyebrows and they are perched in sinister looking trees. The old
ladies on the bench are scary and wicked with sharp pointy knitting needles.
Even the little bunnies in their holes look like they'll jump out at any moment
and chew off her foot. She runs home terrified.
 

That is precisely
how I feel at this moment.
 

Leaving the
meeting and the safety of the U.R. building and walking down the familiar
streets of our small community, I feel as though the world has never looked so
frightening. The sky is the same winter gray that it was yesterday but today it
looks ominous. As I look up at the windows of the buildings that neighbor our
Inn, I feel sure that nefarious enemies are hidden behind the opaque glass,
staring down at me with their scheming plans as I walk around the town that used
to feel like a haven to me. I wonder if I will ever feel safe here again.
 

I'm walking
slowly and looking all around in guarded unease. Aunty grabs my hand to pull me
along. She starts talking, trying to cheer me up.
 

"It's all
going to be alright dear. The Elders are smart men. Mr. Terrell may be rough
around the edges, but he cares for the people. He cares for us—"

This is news to
me. I've hardly spoken to the man.

"—and I bet
he'll be the one who works the hardest to sort this all out. Even if it's
partly because he'd love to prove me wrong."

She winks at me.
She has an unending spring of faith in God, and faith in His people, bubbling
up out of her. Sometimes it's very encouraging. Right now I find it nauseating.
So I change the subject.

"Do you
know how Thomas is? Is he nervous?"
                         

"I haven't
heard anything about him yet. Jose and Ellen simply agreed to meet with Matt.
To tell you the truth, I'm not one hundred percent certain they've told Thomas
yet.
 
When I mentioned Matt's name, they
already knew that to be Thomas' brother's name. I guess he's had terrible
nightmares about Matt and has had guilt about leaving his family. I don't know
how they'll handle this, and it is up to them how to handle it, for Thomas'
sake."
 

We walk in
silence for a minute before she speaks again.

"You could
help the situation a lot, Ivy. You could treat Matt with care and concern and a
smidgen of decency. I think that might defuse a lot of the tension.
Hmm?"
 

What I think and
what I'll say out loud are two different things.
"
Mmm
hmm.
I'll try Aunty."

"I'm
praying for you honey. I know you have a lot going on in that adorable head of
yours."

"
Mmm
hmm."
 

What I'm
thinking about is the rekindled hope that he won't be waiting at the gate. I
don't see him anywhere as we approach the gate. In fact, I don't see anyone at
all, even the guards. As we walk closer to the gate, I hear laughter and music
coming from the security building next to the gate. The door is open and, as
Aunty and I arrive at the door, we see the guards, Tom and Anthony, playing
cards with Matt. They look like they are having a great time, drinking coke and
laughing like they've been friends forever. Elvis is blaring on the CD player
in the corner. I've heard that Tom has quite an extensive collection of CDs.

Al must have
gone home after his shift. Anthony, Al's daytime replacement, doesn't seem as
grossed out by zombies as his predecessor. In fact,
Aunty's
request that they treat Matt kindly has indeed been respected. Anthony has his
arm around Matt and is pretending to whisper something insulting about Tom.

We all hear him
clearly say, "Tom's got a wife who's a...well, one a you guys."
 

It's an awkward
moment, punctuated by Elvis starting into the chorus of "
You
Ain't
Nothin
But A
Hound Dog." Aunty and I stand quiet, witnessing this strange
exchange. I am cringing inside at Anthony's lack of wisdom when I realize that
I've been just as tactless. I'm ready for Aunty to clear her throat like she
does when she's about to start "putting things right."