The Book of the Unnamed Midwife (37 page)

By August, the three couples remained. The Sterlings were badly matched and hardly spoke to one another. Lewis and the hollow-eyed Patty behaved around each other as predator and prey. Jodi and Honus grew insular, spending all their time together, trying to live inside a bubble that kept out the rest of the world.

Sister Sterling was gone one day and her husband raged after her in a car, determined to bring her back. Neither one returned. In the fall, Honus asked Jodi to leave with him.

Jodi had a moment alone with Patty. She gave the girl a laundry basket full of clothes she told her needed mending. They were old clothes she didn’t want anymore.

Inside them was the entire three year supply.

Honus and Jodi opened the front door and walked out that night as the full moon rose. Without a word, they walked back to the house where they had spent the last winter. It was exactly the way they had left it. They set about provisioning the house for the winter.

Honus searched and searched for a sign of Dusty, for anything she had left behind. He had a wild hope that he would find a note from her like he had once found from his wife. Unidentifiable hairs in the shower drain, anonymous finger smudges on the doorframe. Books she must have touched but had left no trace. He and Jodi slept together in the room that had once been only hers. He sat in Dusty’s room sometimes, to think. He pulled open her dresser drawers one day and found neatly folded in the top drawer the pajamas he had given her for Christmas. He touched them gently and closed the drawer.

The Obermeyers celebrated Christmas again that year, but it felt hollow. Honus brought his wife more DVDs and batteries, she surprised him with a very nice pocketknife. They sang the same songs and lit the same tree. They both felt like hell, and they talked long into the night.

“It’s not right. It wasn’t enough. We shouldn’t have left her there.”

“What wasn’t enough?” Honus didn’t understand.

“Never mind. We have to go get her. We have to.”

“You’re right. I’m scared to do it, but you’re right.”

They went out and started up the snowmobile. They rode back into Huntsville and let themselves in the unlocked door of the house. It was silent and dark. They crept up the stairs. Patty and Lewis were in a king bed, feet of distance between them. The girl slept curled tight into a ball. Jodi held the rifle and aimed it at Lewis. Honus woke Patty up quietly. She opened her eyes wide at his first touch. She scrambled out of bed naked and stood blue-white in the starlight that came through the window.

“Who’s there?” Lewis was awake and peering into the dark.

“It’s Jodi and Honus Obermeyer. We’re taking Patty to live with us.” Jodi sounded surer than she felt. She had her finger on the rifle’s trigger, but she had forgotten to load it.

“You can’t take my wife.” Lewis was struggling up out of bed. He was a young man, but he was working on an impressive beard already. He wore white shorts and had to feel on the nightstand for his glasses.

Honus had found a nightgown and dropped it over Patty’s head. She raised her arms obediently, letting him dress her like a doll. “Do you want to stay here?”

Patty couldn’t answer. Her eyes were pure terror.

“See, she’s fine. Now you two go on back to wherever you came from.” He stared at the barrel of the rifle while he spoke.

Honus picked Patty up off her feet. She weighed nothing at all. He held her to his chest and she was rigid, trembling.

Honus walked out the bedroom door and Jodi inched backwards to follow.

“Who do you think you are? You can’t just come in here and—“

“She’s just a kid! What you’re doing is wrong and you know it.”

“She’s a woman, and she’s my wife. When she’s older she’ll understand better. It’s just hard for her to understand right now.”

Jodi was still moving backwards. “Don’t follow us or I’ll shoot. Stay right here.” She turned and slammed the door behind her. She bolted down the stairs to the snowmobile where Honus had Patty on the seat behind him and Jodi got on after so that the two of them held her there.

As they pulled away, they saw Lewis come out the front door yelling, waving his arms at them. Honus prayed that he didn’t have a gun. There was no sound of a shot.

They made it home and got Patty dressed and drinking hot Ovaltine in front of the tree. It took Lewis hours to follow their tracks back to Eden. He rattled the doorknob, screaming.

Honus took the rifle and loaded it. “Go to the back of the house.” Jodi took Patty to the back bedroom and the two of them sat in the closet. Honus opened the door.

“She’s staying with us, and you’re going to leave.” He held the rifle low, but kept it pointed toward Lewis.

Lewis was shivering. His cheeks were red and his glasses were fogged. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am your bishop and she is my wife.”

“You’re not our bishop anymore. We—“ The gun went off as his nervous hand squeezed it. The shot hit Lewis in his hip and he went down, wheezing. Honus dropped the gun in shock and stared. Jodi ran out to them.

“Oh my gosh. You shot him!”

Honus could only stare.

“What do we do?”

He shook his head and his jaw worked, but no sound came out.

“Shoot him again.” It was Patty. They both turned to look. Patty stood there as if she had not spoken.

“I can’t. I can’t.” Honus was approaching hysteria. He was gasping tiny breaths, his chest hitching.

Patty picked up the gun and looked at it. It was nearly as tall as she was, and she had never handled one before. Gently, Jodi took it from her. She worked the bolt and took a deep breath. She aimed at Lewis’ head and pulled the trigger. The hole was small but blood gushed out, staining the snow.

Honus sat down hard and his eyelashes fluttered. He grayed out.

Jodi put the rifle beside the door and pushed Patty back inside. Then she helped Honus to stumble to the couch. She locked the door.

“We’re gonna be a family. No one is ever going to mess with us, like ever again.” She sat down next to Honus and patted his hand. He did not respond.

Patty was cold, but present. She pulled her knees up under her chin.

Jodi started a song and Patty joined her. Honus took more than an hour to come back to himself.

In the morning, Jodi told him to bury the body. He built a pyre as Dusty had once done and burned it. He came back to the house and found Jodi and Patty talking like sisters.

The three of them got on very well. They were a family, as Jodi had said. They never spoke of Lewis and they rarely spoke of the plague or the time before. Jodi miscarried over and over, and she told Patty what had happened with their first child. Patty listened without emotion. She said she would never get married again.

* * * * *

Six years later, Jodi went full term with a girl. They both died, the child never left her body. Honus was wrecked with grief and Patty did the burning. Four bodies, one place. The rain churned their ashes into the soil.

* * * * *

It was less than a year before the two of them started sleeping together. Patty was barren. They lived together the rest of their lives and never again saw another human being.

Chapter Eleven

The boys worked short days. They came in after breakfast and worked patiently, diligently until midday. They shared lunch at long tables in the old cafeteria. The room was windowless, with a stage at one end. They had decorated the walls with their drawings and calligraphy, many of them were developing a neat hand. When they had eaten, they had a few hours to play and run their energy off. Some of them napped in the late afternoon, others spent time in the library.

The library had been painstakingly collected and was maintained by people who cared for books beyond all things. No books could leave that building; reading could only be done there. Couches and cushions and chairs were scattered throughout and usually occupied. The scribe boys favored the books that explained parts of the before time, books that were everyday stories of peoples’ lives. Their studies focused on farming and writing and the repair of simple machines, but left to their own devices the boys read books about small families and big cities and the way things used to be.

The boys did not live in families. They were part of large co-op households to which they had been given when they were weaned. They had never seen a big city. The big cities of the world crumbled and fell overtaken by rats and ivy, undermined by floods and rust.

For a year of their lives, they reported for five days to copy the Books in their neat and even hands. They were eager to please. Their letters were perfect, their lines were straight. They smiled up at Mother Ina who tousled their hair and told them they were good. When they neared the end of the year, they asked her what they would do next.

“Soon it will be time to choose apprenticeships. You’ll meet people in the trades and see what interests you. Soon enough. But today, we return to this. Are you boys ready?”

They were ready. Hands clean, paper laid out, ink wells full.

THE BOOK OF THE UNNAMED MIDWIFE

THE HIVE of VIVIAN

March 21

Farmhouse on the 80. More corn than I thought there’d be. Weird corn. Different colors, mixed colors. Cross pollinating. Corn – farmers + wind. Delicious. Roast it and don’t think about butter. Thirteen days since I saw another person. Distance. No idea who they were. Didn’t care. Didn’t see me.

Not the last man on earth. Even if I never saw anyone I’d know because fucking food is disappearing. Deer in the corn. Day will come. No more sardines no more tuna no more pb or j. Need to get more rural. Same as it ever was and everybody goes to Walmart. Better odds in podunk little two by four kind of places. Restaurant kitchens. Sit in an old vinyl booth and casually remark that I’ll have the fried chicken. Right. Tell it to the millipedes for they have inherited the earth.

Also can’t find a fucking god damned water filter anywhere of any kind. Boiling everything. Fucking tiresome. Tastes bad.

March 30

Swear to shit, flocks of wild chickens. Shot two. Plucking is bullshit but remember Christmas dinner. Ate the both of them roasted and burning my fingers. Sprinkled with salt packets from a McDonalds. Hope they breed. Hope the world is covered in wild chickens.

People nearby. Feel it.

April 1

No fools. Vivian and fourteen men. Wearing furs. Welcomed me like it was time for cake at Versailles. Well-provisioned. Pretended like I had no skills. She bought the drag. Dirty, haven’t bathed in ages. Said nothing about my guns, totally peaceable. Not one of them made a move without her say. Never seen anything like it.

Alpha and a handful of betas. Biggest dude = predictably alpha, but after that pretty random. Betas who sing and fix things and one ugly little funny guy. Rest come and go but loyal. Invited me to dinner and a long group fuck. Didn’t join but watched. Amazing. Laughing the whole time. She got off more times than I could count, gave them almost nothing. Threw them out if they came too fast or couldn’t take direction. Arrogant. Plain looking, but so confident = sexy.

Before I left asked if she needed BC. Laughed and told me she was covered if she lived to be a thousand. She might.

April 25

Passed by a person on horseback for the first time in my life. No idea male or female. Wearing a cape. Wtf.

April 26

Coming into Des Moines. Not sure if I’m going to avoid the city or not. Obviously inhabited. Fires.

April 29

Long sign with streamers made of shreds of cloth. TOP PRICE PAID FOR FEMALE ANY AGE DURABLE GOODS MEDICINE GUNS CITY HALL AT SUNDOWN EVERY DAY

Cutting around Des Moines.

* * * * *

The woods were deep green and dripped with rain. Mushrooms carpeted the ground and trails were wiped out with new growth. She stomped through heavily, headed for a house she had glimpsed through the trees. She had headed due south out of Des Moines. She knew she was in Missouri, but not where.

The house was small and it had once been white. Moss grew up one side and reached around the face of it, green fingers slipping toward the windows. She found the door locked so she kicked it in. The wood was swollen and wet and gave way with a rotted creak. She hurried in and dropped her pack, glad to be out of the wet woods.

There was dry firewood inside and she started a fire. The pantry was bare. She dug out her last can of chicken soup and heated it. She would eat it slowly.

She hadn’t made a sound in more than a month, other than moaning in her sleep. She wasn’t sure she could talk if she wanted to. Her voice was something that fell away, unneeded. Vestigial vocal cords. She hadn’t fired her guns in a long time. She wiped them down with oil, made sure they were dry and in order before putting them back together and settling in to sleep. She laid out her wet clothes to dry and sat in front of the fire in just her binder and panties, warming her back and then her front. When she felt as dry and warm as she could get, she pulled clothes out of her pack. They weren’t dry either, so she laid them out.

She dragged a couch in front of the fireplace so that the arms of it touched the brick pediment. She curled up on it and slept.

She awoke the second the door opened. She pulled both guns out from under the cushion where they’d been wedged and waiting, holding her breath.

“What the hell? Who started a fire in here?” The room filled with the light of several lanterns.

“Hello?”

The first voice was a man’s, but the second was not. Cautiously, she peeked up over the back of the couch.

“Oh shit.” The woman dropped her lantern. It stayed lit as it rolled across the floor. Shadows spun.

“Who the hell are you?” The man was short, with thick black chest hair showing over the open buttons of his soggy flannel. His face was covered in a stubbly beard and he looked as if he had fallen in mud.

She held both guns where they couldn’t be seen. “Just a traveler.” She tried to speak low but her unused voice squeaked and gave her away. She was either a woman or a boy going through puberty. She cleared her throat and started again. “Just a—“

The man stepped forward quickly, his face showing pure shock. “You’re a woman!”

She raised both guns over the back of the couch and rested them there. “Stop. Not another step.”

“Whoa, hey. Hang on there.” The other woman stooped to pick up her blue electric lantern and stepped between them. In the firelight, she too was covered in mud. She wiped her face a little. Her skin was the color of dark honey and her hair was pulled back but the curls showed through. Her large black eyes took in the woman on the couch and her guns and did not flinch. She radiated calm, absolutely unruffled.

“Hey, I’m Ava and this is Dino. We’re ok, we’re not here to hurt you. This place is a way station that we use sometimes. We’re on our way back from a shopping trip. We’re armed too, but I’d rather see you put yours away then get mine out.” She was smiling just a little.

The midwife stared at her. She was deciding.

“I want to put my clothes on. I’m gonna put my guns down and do that, and then we can talk.” She stared at Dino. He showed her his hands and then turned his back.

“Please, go ahead and get dressed. I’ll give you some privacy.”

She knelt awkwardly and pushed the couch back from the hearth. Her jeans were toasty as she put them on. The zipper was too hot to touch. She left it open and shrugged back into her long underwear. It fit her tight and made things clear, but they already knew. She put the guns back in her waistband and zipped up. She walked out to face Ava.

“Alright. Guns away.”

“That’s great. So, what’s your name?”

She closed her lips for a second.

Nope.

 
“Jane.”

“Jane.” Ava held out her hand. The custom already felt ancient. They shook.

Dino came back around and offered his, too. “Dino. It’s really Dean, but everyone calls me Dino.” He shook vigorously and smiled at her. “Where you headed?”

“East. North. Maybe New England.”

The two exchanged a glance. “What are you looking for?”

“A safe place.”

“With other people?” Dino was looking up at her from under raised brows.

“Are other people safe?”

Ava spoke this time. “Some people are. Look, we were driving a truck full of supplies through the wood when we got stuck in the mud. We’ve got plenty to eat. We both need to clean up, but we were going to have a late supper. Want to join us and maybe talk a little?”

Jane had eaten, but she wasn’t going to turn down a little more. “Okay. We can talk.”

Dino heated two pots of water from a cistern and bathed methodically in the kitchen sink. When he was done he rinsed it out and put water on to boil for Ava.

“Thank you.” She pulled her muddy shirt off and dropped it in a heap on the floor. She followed it with her stretchy pants. “We’ve got new clothes, Dino. Let’s ditch these.”