Meg Elison - The Book of the Unnamed Midwife

Place feels almost like home. Got everything set up for me. Putting the garbage out back and pissing outside. Way those guys trashed that house they can’t have been meaning to stay.

At least they had each other.

Lone wolf. Lone ranger. Cowboy. Work alone. Great savior. Magic man. Got your magic right here. Don’t need anybody. Fine by me. Fine.

2 January

Somewhere around the first of the year. New Year’s, if anyone is keeping track. Clock calendar bullshit bullshit time. Punch the clock. Time to think about things.

Haven’t seen a live dog or cat since the city. Remember seeing cats eating the dead. No dogs. Everyone in the city had a stupid little pug or poodle or designer cross-breed. Saw none at all. Maybe they got the fever, too? Cats 1 Dogs 0.

Seen no deer. This seems like the kind of place that would have deer, but there’s no trace of them. Seen birds though. Thousands of birds. If I see geese when it warms up, going to try and shoot some. Fish in the lake. Coming this way = valley = should have seen cows, or smelled them. Didn’t, but maybe I just missed them? Raids = 0 rats. Bugs of all kinds no rodents. Maybe plague = most mammals?

Probably twenty five live men since the hospital. Mostly in groups. Three live women: that woman with her daughter in the city, and Jenna. Also me. News said women and children were much more susceptible to the disease, saw that with my own eyes. Didn’t put a number on it, but from the hospital = probably ten to one. Saw no children recover. Saw maybe one (?) woman get better before I got sick = Dr. Godey. Government started evacuating the ones that did get better. No live children born to women with the disease + children of uninfected women died within hours of birth=0 kids. Lot of talk about that with the lab crowd.

Have to face the possibility that almost everyone in this country died. Haven’t seen military, police, or any aircraft in more than a year. No law = no government anywhere. No power no water. Went to sleep and the world was dying >>> woke up and it was dead and gone. Remember turning on my phone when I came to. Told me there was no network, no hospital Wi-Fi, and its battery was almost dead. Had about a thousand text messages. Scrolled through looking for one from my family, from Jack, but most of them made no sense. Questions = can’t answer. Last few texts from Twitter were awful. Suicide tweets >>> broad accusations = conspiracy and germ warfare. Fucking civil defense message system notified = martial law in effect = stay indoors. White House tweeted: everyone should remain calm that help is on the way. My battery dead.

Still have it. Carrying a square chunk of glass and plastic = literally good for 00000. Don’t know why. Can’t leave it behind.

Remember living in San Francisco, the carnival feeling of FUCKING STOP FUCKING STOP THIS IS WORTHLESS.

Begin again.

Jack.

His name was John, but he was Jack to everybody but his mother. So pretentious. So silly. So much like me. Wish he was here with me. Wish I knew he lived through it. Maybe he’s out there somewhere in Texas, treating wounds. Jack = cowboy who lives forever.

Assume that a huge percentage of the population died off, then another percentage died off right after. People who were already too sick or injured to travel, people dying of injuries, infection, untreated cuts and broken bones. Whatever women are left out there having dead babies are probably dying too, from the fever, from lack of care and infection. Killed by the men who hold them, on whatever terms. Jenna made it through though. Maybe not too many are dying, but I don’t think there are a lot of women left. Have enough injections for a thousand women. If I ever see any.

So is that the mission now? Angel of birth control, out to stop the crop of dead babies before it starts? Got the morning after pill, but I doubt I’ll get to use it on anyone. Wish I could get some RU486. Have the tools to do a D&C if I meet anyone who needs to abort. Can implant an IUD, but passed them over at the university. Too risky without being able to sterilize. Guess this is what can I do. Can make it easier. Can’t fix it. Nobody can. Not that different from what I used to do. Every day I remember what Chicken said, = nothing to do now but survive. Doing that now, but it’s not the only thing. Can’t be. Just gotten to the point where it feels too hard to keep trying. Every woman in labor says she can’t do it. Couldn’t stop what was happening, but I could make it easier. All the same.

Still a midwife. Thing being born is the world. New ugly baby world.

Mission mission mission impossible so stupid FOR WHAT? Have a purpose. Guess that is the reason to go on. Pathetic. Define me. Always did always will. I AM I AM I AM MY JOB. Punch in punch out sign your name. THUMBPRINT here. Your name your name your name. Spin straw into gold bring babies back from the dead arise from the morgue and walk but never tell never tell never tell anything nothing and I am nobody. Nemo. Nothing. A name is what you have for other people. Have nothing be nothing call my name what is the echo of silence.

Get a hold get a hold get a hold right now. Find the center and hold. Hold.

* * * * *

She gave herself the luxury of a few days of madness. They were dark and deep and held in them the wreck of the entirety of civilization. It crumbles in the individual as it does in the world. There are battles and accidents, there are collapses and plagues. There is silence only when one side wins or everyone has died.

March around Equinox

Time to go. Winter spun out forever. Ate everything in the house down to the last box of stale graham crackers. Saved a few cans of soup and baby food for my pack before only the stuff I hate was left. Read every book in that neighborhood. Put on all the weight I can, and my biceps look so developed = wish I could go sleeveless to show everyone how manly I am. Remember the first lady used to have those incredible arms. Past that. Too big, too round for a sleeveless dress. Mannish. Perfect.

Bathed and slept. Rigged up a kind of holster system out of bed sheets. Hope to do better in a place where guns were a bigger deal. Know guns are cleaned out of every store, but maybe some leather holsters are still there. Cut my hair and brushed my beard on again. Early spring = tulips already out by the lake. Got the motorcycle out, oiled it up everywhere the pieces move, filled the gas tank and strapped a gas container to the back. Out in the driveway = can see it.

Place has been great. Holds part of me, now and always. Only had to kill. Didn’t have to. Did. Can’t think about that. Glad I waited through the winter. Feel strong and ready to travel. Picked out a route that I think won’t be too hard.

May

Exhausted. Wasted. Sick. Tired. Raining = nonstop. Seen no one for months. Rode the bike until I ran out of gas and couldn’t find any anywhere. Walked for miles and miles, had to raid new shoes twice. Haven’t been dry since I left the lake house. Haven’t eaten in two days = got an upper respiratory infection, won’t die. I live you die short lifespan motherfucker I outlive you. I win. In a barn now, as dry as I can get, taking antibiotics and drinking rainwater. Last entry is fucking sickening. Was so sunny side sure it was going to be a picnic out here. Hate everything. Can barely breathe. Going to sleep as long as I can and see if I can get better. Aspirin. Gun in my hand.

Don’t know how many days it’s been. Fever is gone = woke up starving and dehydrated. Drank all the water I could, but had to go raiding for something to eat. Old farmhouse next to this barn had a can of peeled tomatoes under the stairs of the cellar = delicious. Have a rash and a raging yeast infection = fucking antibiotics but bug is dead. Need a water filter. Water = probably how I got sick.