And we talk through most of the movie together. I’m surprised when Jamie actually chimes in with a scene I forgot—specifically the taco scene with Banner and Ant Man. About halfway through the time heist, and after our lunch, Jamie starts to look a little bored.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Tired, sorry.”
“Go lie down then, I can clean up here.” I reach for his plate but he gently grabs my wrist.
“I’ll clean it up later, don’t worry about it.”
He lets go, but my skin still feels like it’s on fire where he touched me. When I look into his eyes, he does seem tired, and now I’m the one worrying about him. And worrying about what happens if I leave.
He stands up and puts our plates in the sink, then holds out a hand to help me up. I take it.
And I’m worrying about what happens if I stay.
Jamison
PACKS OF SEEDS ARE SPREAD ACROSS THEoutdoor table, organized based on when they are supposed to be planted—and a stack that were to be sown indoors in early spring that I’ll have to save for next year. I write each type onto a tablet and put a note of when they need to go in the ground.
Andrew looks over the top of the library book I brought him on the seed supply run I did a few weeks ago. It’s some novelization of a movie that was never released because of the superflu. I told him he needs to read it and tell me what happens.
He’s been here for about six weeks and we’ve spent most of our evenings with Andrew retelling movies to me, scene by scene.
“You’re so organized,” he says now. “I would have just thrown them all in the dirt and waited to see what popped up.”
“And then you would have starved.” We aren’t starving yet, but the food in town is getting scarce. I did end up planting a whole bunch of the seeds I nabbed from the Home Depot, and vegetables are already starting to sprout. And the weather has been good to us—we should have a first crop ready by June. These seeds are the leftovers that needto be planned further out, including some winter cabbages.
“Or gotten scurvy.”
He turns back to his book and I glance at his leg propped up on the chair across from him. He’s been able to move a little better. The swelling is gone and the bruising is yellowed and faded. Another week might be all he needs.
I turn back to the tablet and write down that the mustard greens should go in the ground at the end of July.
“Jamie.” His voice is cold and scared.
I hear a twig snap and see movement out of the corner of my eye. I jump, reaching for the rifle, and aim it at the man at the tree line. The man has long, coarse black-and-gray hair with a matching beard. The skin on his face is slightly reddened by the sun. I can see his smile beneath the beard. There’s a rifle, too. He holds it low, but still pointing at us.
“Stop there.” I’m trying my hardest to make my voice sound intimidating, to make it sound like I can pull this trigger. But the gun is shaking and my palms are already sweaty.
“No need to start shootin’,” the bearded man says. “How many of youse are there?” He takes a step forward.
“I said stop.” My voice breaks and Isound like a child.
Andrew whispers, “Jamie.”
He doesn’t have to say anymore because the movement catches my eye. There are more people emerging from the tree line. A Black woman in her thirties with a vest and short hair, an older white woman with gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. There are three more men; two are older white men, maybe forties, while the third is a tall, stocky kid with brown skin who looks like he’s the same age as Andrew and me.
All of them have guns. Three rifles, three handguns.
“You’re outnumbered,” the man with the beard says. “So how ’bout we lower our guns and talk?”
Talking sounds fine.
I turn to Andrew, trying to see his reaction to this. He looks skeptical, and if I’m not mistaken it looks like he doesn’t want me to lower the gun. But I don’t have a choice. There’s more of them than there are of us. I don’t know if those guns are even loaded, but if they are, we’re screwed.
And I still don’t think I can shoot them. My stomach is in knots and I can’t psych myself up to think about it, let alone do it.
I lean the rifle against the deck railing, and the rest of the interlopers lower their own weapons. I let out a soft breath of relief as the bearded man hands his rifle to the woman with the gray ponytail and comes toward us.
