Fall of Man Ch. 03

Emily paced over to the door and pulled back the curtain one more time as Auntie May droned on about Jordan. The man it seemed was more like a son to her than a great-nephew. She had been there less than half an hour and already she knew that the man took his first step when he was just eight months old, had graduated high school as valedictorian with letters in football, baseball and track, and oh, yes, he had lost his virginity when he was fifteen to girl who was a senior and a cheerleader, but she had broken his heart. Emily had smiled at that one, trying to imagine any woman having that kind of control over the man she had met only briefly but felt like she knew for years.

She did not want to worry the sweet old woman, but it was almost pitch black out there now and even Emily was beginning to worry about the guy. He was good, no doubt, but even Marines lost battles occasionally. Especially when they were out gunned or ambushed.

And in the world as it was now, the good guys were sorely outnumbered. It was more than possible that even with his skills, the gang with its greater numbers had prevailed. What then? What would she do? She might have just met the old woman, but there was no way she could just leave her here. But how she would get the woman with her walker all the way to Iowa was beyond her.

She let the curtain drop and fall back into place as she turned to face the old woman. She plastered her best 'everything will be all right' smile into place, but feared that even her acting skills fell short of this one. "Aunt May," she began...but she was cut off by a soft thud from the utility room, just off the kitchen behind them. It was automatic as she shoved the older woman behind her and reached for the knife in her jean's pocket.

She had just flipped the blade open and was crouched to attack when he appeared in the door way. "Jordan," sang the frail voice behind her. Emily relaxed her stance and allowed the woman to rush past her and embrace the man.

***

Jordan nodded at her as the woman started to fret and worry over him, "What were you thinking, Jordan? It is cold out there. You should have come with your friend, not left the two of us to worry about what mischief you were up to, boy."

He leaned down and brushed a light kiss over the wrinkled forehead. "I am sorry, Auntie May. We had a bit of trouble on the way here. I had to take of some things before I could. Sorry if I worried you." It never ceased to amaze him how this woman could make him feel like a naughty ten year old.

But the woman that smiled knowingly across the room made him feel anything but ten years old, but very naughty all the same. "Is everything all right?" she asked quietly. He nodded as Auntie May stepped back.

"You two need food. Let me make us some supper," she smiled. But that smile seemed weaker, less radiant, less peaceful than it once had. He noticed the slowing of her once sprit step too, as if each one was a sheer act of will alone.

"I'll cook, Auntie May," he offered. "You just sit down and chat with Emily," he smiled with far more confident than he felt at the moment. Despite being safe inside Auntie May's, he alone was protector for two females, one of them old and sick, and they were surrounded by the enemy. He was certain that he had been in worse situations but he could not think of them just then. What is more, he knew that the police or no one else would come to the rescue. This new world order really sucked.

***

'And he cooks too,' Emily wanted to laugh hysterically at it all. But there was nothing funny about the situation they were in. Nothing funny about the world in which they suddenly found themselves. Had it been just two weeks ago that she had sought her parents' opinions about a move to Hollywood? How could so much change so quickly? But without power or telephones, they had been thrown back into the Dark Ages it seemed. Except the feudal lords were drug dealers and gangs.

The older woman was staring at her. Emily smiled as best she could. "So how do you know my boy?"

Emily was not certain exactly what to say, so she was glad when a deep voice from the kitchen responded, "We sort of ran into one another out there as she was trying to get out of the city, Auntie May."

The older woman nodded and her eyes travelled up and down Emily's body until she shifted uncomfortably from side to side, "She one of your nicer looking strays, I can say that much for you, boy."

Emily was not certain how to respond to that, so she dropped her eyes to the floor and whispered, "Thank you, I think."

"So where you off to with my boy, girl?" the older woman demanded.

Emily looked back up and noticed that the woman's frail arms were crossed over her chest as if pondering it all. "My parents have a farm a few hundred miles from here in Iowa. I figured that would be safer than staying in the city."

"Humph, anything is safer than staying in this city. Police done turned the whole place over to those ruffians out there. Jordan used to play with some of dem boys when they were little. But they can't even be called human no more. No morals. No nothing. Just pure evil," the woman looked up as the young man brought a tray of food in.

"Sorry, Auntie May, it may not be as good as your cookin' but all I could find was some beans to warm up," he apologized as he handed a bowl to her. She took it with trembling fingers.

He turned towards her and held out another bowl. Emily took it was a smile, "Thanks."

"Don't thank me until you taste it," he joked but she could hear the stiffness in his voice as she walked over to the couch that the woman motioned for her to sit on. He joined her and they ate in silence. He was right: dinner was nothing special just a can of baked beans with a bit of ketchup, mustard and touch of brown sugar to try and flavor them a bit. But these days flavor was not that important. If you had food to eat, that was all that mattered.

She was bringing her last bite to her mouth when the woman pinned them both with one of those stares, "So what is the plan, boy? How you getting to the lady's farm?"

***

It was the question that Jordan had been asking himself since he heard that explosion. They had drawn attention to themselves, hell, they had virtually declared war on the gangs that controlled the neighborhood where he had grown up. Auntie May was right, some of the guys might have once been his friend. But no more. They had taken a different path...the wrong path.

But he knew that by killing them today, it made getting way tomorrow even more difficult. And he had Auntie May to think about too. He could not leave her here alone in this house to face those men's retribution...or to freeze before spring. On the other hand, she could not just walk out of here the way he and Emily had intended to. "Is Ole Betsy still running? Is there any gas in her?" he held out what slim hope he had.

His aunt shook her grey head, "She runs, but you know what crappy mileage you get with her. Even if her tank was full, which it ain't, it would only get you half way there...or less. And these days, driving is like putting out a neon sign...rob and murder me. Of course, she is yours if you want her. But the two of you stand a better chance on foot...or maybe your old bicycle in the garage?"

He shook his head, "Those won't do for you, Auntie May..."

The old woman pounded her frail fist on the arm of the chair, "I ain't go nowhere, boy. This is my home, has been all my life and I am staying here."

He looked at his aunt, the one person he had left on this planet. He did not like it but there was no other choice, he turned towards the woman next to him. "Emily, we will find you a new coat, give you what supplies we can, then tomorrow I will get you safely out of the city." He smiled to his aunt, "I am sorry that we cannot do more, but if Auntie May is staying then..."

"You gonna make me get up from this chair and hit you over the head with my walking stick, boy? I said I is staying. You are getting this girl back to her Ma and Pa. And I ain't having no argument bout it," she yelled as she shook her fist in the air, her wrinkled face turning pink with the exertion.

"Auntie May, I can't just leave you here to..." his throat tightened at the very thought of it. He could not force the words out his mouth no matter how hard he tried.

"To die?" his aunt said the words that he could not. "Yes, boy, that is just what you are going to do." Her face softened then, she took on that radiance she had each Sunday morning as she sang in the choir at church. She looked ten, no, twenty, years younger in that instant.

"Listen to me, child. This old woman has lived too long." He saw giant tears fill her soft eyes. They began to slide down her face. He felt his throat tighten even more. He knew he could not speak, he could barely breath at the weight of her words.

"Way too long, boy. Look at the world out there. It is madness. Men fighting men for a scrap of bread. Mama's stealing from their own neighbors just to keep their chilluns warm. It ain't right. It ain't right," she shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheek.

"This world is no place for an old woman, son. I am tired. I been tired for years. But I had you to look after." She smiled softly as she looked to the woman next to him, "That's your job now, girly. You promise me that you gonna take care of my boy. Look after him the way Izzy and I done. You promise?"

Jordan watched tears track down Emily's soft brown cheeks. His aunt was not being fair to the woman. He could take care of himself. He had been doing it for over a decade. And this guilt trip was not necessary. But if it would set his aunt's mind to rest...give her peace...what did a false promise matter? Their eyes met and his pleaded without words with her...'just say it.'

She nodded her soft, too damned soft, head of curls that framed her beautiful face and made her look like an angel in the dim moonlight that was filtering through the windows. "I promise, Auntie May," she whispered.

His chest tightened even more at her words. They sounded so real, so genuine. Hell, they sounded as binding as wedding vows. But they are just for show, just to relieve an old woman's mind, he reminded himself. This was Emilé after all...super model, actress...not for the likes of battered old soldiers and orphans.

He tore his eyes away from her face and turned back towards his aunt. He saw the relief in the woman's face. "So, boy, how we gonna do this? How we gonna get the two of you outta the city and me take out as many of those bastards as I can before I go to meet my maker and see my sister?"

Jordan wanted to swallow his tongue. Where had his Auntie May gone? Bastards? He could not remember the last time he had heard her say 'heck' or 'tarnation' let alone a word like that. And the idea of his kind old aunt killing someone? It was unthinkable...or it had been...until all this. Now? In this world, nothing made sense.

He inhaled as he saw the sad, harsh truth in his aunt's logic. This was no place for a woman like her. It hurt him to just to think it. His chest felt like someone was squeezing his heart until it might burst. But she was right...she would slow them down, she would take up valuable resources, food and water they did not have, she could not pull her own weight...and for what a few more months, a couple of years of life. What kind of life would it be?

He had studied history at college. He remembered admiring the way that the elderly Vikings would walk out naked into the snow during hard years when there was not enough food. So that their children and grandchildren might have more to eat, to survive. He knew that was what his aunt was doing. And as much as he admired her like he had those Vikings, it did not make it any easier. He wanted to argue, to shout and rage at Fate. He wanted to refuse and hog tie her, bodily carry her to safety if he had to. But that would be wrong.

He got up and walked over to her chair, he knelt in front of her and lifted her frail hands to his lips. Her skin was paper thin, she had dozen of deep purple bruises on her hands and arms. Her fingers trembled in his. But when he looked into those eyes, he saw determination. He smiled, he knew where he got it all from. This woman...and Auntie Isabel. They had made him strong. That had taken a broken and battered little boy into their home and hearts...and they had made him a strong man of character as much as the Marines had. How could he let her down now?

"Let me think on it tonight," he smiled weakly as he kissed that weathered and gnarled hand.

She pulled her hand out of his and patted his cheek, "You do that, boy. And make it good. I want to go out of this world with a bang...and take as many bad guys with me as I can." His aunt as the hero in white hat from some old western was still not something he could see, but he nodded reassured anyway.

"One more thing, son, I don't want my things falling into their hands either. They's is a group...the old neighborhood watch. They can't do much against these hoodlums with their guns, but what food and blankets and such that I got, I want us to get to them. Plan that too."

He nodded. Now there was his auntie. Always thinking of others. She struggled to stand then and he placed his hands under her elbows and helped her gingerly up.

"I guess that is all for now then, boy. I am tired and we have a big day tomorrow. I'll be saying good night," she smiled towards the young woman, who had been silent this whole time. He noticed then that tears were streaming unchecked down her cheeks still. And his chest tightened even more.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, sweetie. You remember one thing, this old woman is holding you to that promise. I'll be looking down on you so you better keep it," she smiled as Emily nodded her head and whispered, "Yes, Ma'am," once more.

But his aunt was not finished with her surprises this night, "You keep the girl with you in your old room. Without the furnace, you'll need to body heat in this cold. And besides that way she is close...just in case the bad guys find us before we find them. You get her out of here safe then, you hear me."

Jordan nodded his head but said a silent pray that it did not come to that. "Yes, Auntie May."

The old woman smiled that beatific one again and leaned up to brush a soft kiss on his cheek. She proceeded to tap that same cheek with her frail hand, "But no hanky-panky, you hear me?"

Jordan laughed, "Yes, Ma'am, you have my word."

"I better, boy," she said as she nodded towards Emily. "Good night to you too, my dear." Then she hobbled slowly on the walker towards her room down the hall.

***

Emily sat on the side of the twin bed in the dark room that she was to share with this man, this stranger. Her mind was in complete and utter turmoil. Not since she was a little girl had she battled this level of overload.

So much had happened in one day...she had killed a man, no, two men. She had run into a real life hero, who had saved her ass. She was hiding from men who wanted to kill her...or worse. And the sweetest little old lady in the world wanted to die and take the bad guys with her? Oh, and she had let Miss Fluff-Fluff go. Losing her cat might seem inconsequential against all the rest...and maybe it was to other people. But Emily's brain had never worked the same way theirs did.

And right now, her brain was on overload. Her skin crawled as if a million tiny bugs were just beneath it trying to eat their way out. Even the darkness seemed painfully bright. And she could hear each and every sound in stereo as they drifted through the walls. She tried to pay attention, see if they were in any danger...well, if they had been discovered. Of course, they were in danger. The whole fucking world was in danger. Nothing made sense.

What was more, the very idea of sharing a bed with him...with anyone was terrifying. Emily had never slept with someone. Never. She could barely stand to touch people. Her mother had claimed that was the hardest part of raising a daughter with autism...that Emily almost never hugged her, or held her hand, or kissed her. But now she was expected to sleep next to another human being.

Oh, she understood the reason. Conserving body heat. It made sense. Might even save their lives at some point. But that did not make it any less scary. Any less daunting. How would she manage it? How could she handle having someone in her space?

He entered the room as quietly as he could, but still too loud for her sensitive hearing. "Everything seems okay," he said as he stripped out of the jacket he was wearing. He left on his shirt and jeans as he kicked off his boots. He came to sit on the bed next to her then. His shoulders were slumped. Even in the dark, she could see the fine lines of worry creasing his brow and around his mouth.

"You can't let her do it," she whispered into the darkness.

He sighed heavily, "We have no choice. I have spent the past couple of hours trying to think of something...anything...another option. But she is right. Damn it, why does she always have to be right?"

His shoulders sagged even more and Emily heard the soft catch in his breath. Without thinking, she reached out and put her arms around his shoulders. "It will be all right," she lied. Whether to him or herself she was not sure.

He nodded as he turned pulled back the quilt that covered the bed, "Get in. We need as much sleep as we can get. Tomorrow is a big day."

Panic welled up inside of her. She wanted to kick and scream like she had as a little girl. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide under the bed where everything was smaller and darker...and always felt safer somehow.

But she knew that she could not. Safe place...water falls, rocks warmed by the sun, birds singing...she repeated the mantra in her head. She tried to visualize her special place near her father's mountain cabin. If she could go there in her head, she could handle anything.

She climbed into bed and scooted as far as she could against the wall. He got in after her and pulled the quilt up to cover them both. "Good night," he said as he turned his back to her and clung to the other side of the twin bed. They were not quite touching...if only they could stay that way all night then everything might be all right, she thought as the darkness swept her away to dreams of crashing water and warm sunlight.