Mindy McGinnis - In a Handful of Dust

The loamy smell of good, wet dirt filled her nose and made her soul ache for home, and lengths of green fields drenched with rain. The sudden whiff of life was so direct and strong Lucy felt woozy again. She settled onto the cold marble floor with a soft sigh as her skin drank in the moisture around her, her body answering the life in the room with a response of its own as she felt every pore in her skin opening up to drink air cleaned by green leaves.

“I think she likes it,” said a deep voice, and Lucy startled from her reverie to see a man among the vegetation, his smile a glaring white against the backdrop of green.

“Dad, she can do it,” Ben said by way of introduction.

The smile slipped for a second as he shot an irritated look at his son, and then returned when he glanced at Lucy. “Hello, little one,” he said. The endearment sounded so natural in his deep voice that she felt comforted.

“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly aware that Ben’s father had a handsome face to match his voice. “I’m Lucy.”

“Lucy, welcome.”

She ducked her head in response but could think of nothing to say. Ben backed away as his father came toward them, emerging from the garden like a god of life. He was a massive man, the biggest Lucy had ever seen; he would dwarf Lynn, and Lucy herself only rose to his elbow. Feeling more childlike than ever, she reached up to shake his hand.

“I’m Lucy.”

“You already said that.” He winked at her, and her hand was immediately lost inside his, which was coated with the rich blackness of the soil.

“I’m Lander,” he said, releasing her hand and clasping her shoulder, turning her away from Ben. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

Lucy’s eyes were still riveted on Lander’s bicep, so she didn’t realize he meant the garden until Ben sighed heavily. “Yes,” she said, redirecting her gaze. “It’s… is that a tomato ?”

The inviting flash of red among the waves of green brought Lucy out from under Lander’s protective arm, her mouth watering at the sight of a favorite food so long denied her. “You grew a tomato ?”

“More than one, actually,” Lander said. “That’s the first ripe one of this crop.”

Nearer the plants, Lucy could see the bunches of green tomatoes, swelling with life and drinking in the sun from the glass ceiling above, the moisture from the thick air around it. The one that had caught her eye had just turned, the skin a deep orange that would turn to overripe redness in a day or two.

“It’s yours, if you want it.” Lander’s voice was at her elbow.

She reached for it, her hand barely glancing the thin skin pulled taut over the meat of the fruit, vibrant with life. It snapped off the vine easily, the spicy scent of the broken stem delivering the taste to her mouth before she’d touched it to her lips. “You’re sure? It shouldn’t go to someone else, someone who—”

“I grew it,” Lander said. “What’s here is mine, and that is for you. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Needing no more urging, Lucy bit, her sharp teeth breaking the skin and sending the red juice spilling over her lips and dripping to the marble floor at her feet.

Lynn looked mistrustfully at the green tomato Lucy had brought her as proof of the garden down the street. “You ate one?”

“A red one, yeah,” Lucy said, flooded with guilt that it hadn’t occurred to her to save part of the ripe one for Lynn. “I thought you could set that one in the windowsill, ’til it’s ready.”

Lynn sniffed it, closing her eyes in a replica of Lucy’s moment of bliss at the smell. A small smile tugged at her mouth, but it was tinged with sadness, and Lucy knew she was thinking of home instead of the small miracle in front of her.

“Once you feel good enough, you’ve got to see it,” Lucy said, unable to hide her enthusiasm. “I guess it used to be a botanical garden.” She pronounced the word slowly so it came out correctly, unable to shake the thought of Ben’s mockery even when he wasn’t around. “They had all kinds of weird plants and things there people would come to look at, so when the Shortage hit, Ben’s grandfather pulled up all the flowery plants and they used that dirt for vegetables.”

“Uh-huh.” Lynn ran her thumbnail over the tight green skin of the tomato. “And how do they water this garden?”

“I didn’t ask. But Ben said Lander’s dad took all the water out of the fountains and swimming pools—and there were a ton of pools, Lynn, you should see this place—and stored it in the hot water tanks of all the hotels.”

“You sound impressed.”

“I can’t not be,” Lucy said. “We’re in the middle of the desert and you’re holding a tomato.”

Lynn sniffed the skin one more time and handed it to Lucy to set in the windowsill. “Who is Lander?”

“That’s Ben’s dad. Wait ’til you meet him, Lynn—good God. He’s massive.” Lucy felt herself warming at the memory of his smile. “He might even make you feel feminine.”

Lucy turned from the windowsill to see Lynn staring over her shoulder out at the bright-blue sky. “I’ve never felt more or less of a woman because of a man.”

“I didn’t mean…” Lucy stumbled over her words, but Lynn waved them away.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just sick of being in this hospital bed.”

“It’s actually not a hospital,” Lucy piped up. “This is a hotel, same as the other where the garden is, but they took some of the first-floor rooms and brought over equipment from the hospital so everyone isn’t scattered all across the city.”

Lynn nodded, but her eyes slid shut as exhaustion claimed her again. She licked her lips before trying to speak. “Everyone?”

“Yeah… well, that’s how Ben put it. Everyone.”

“No idea how many?”

“So far I’ve just met Ben and Lander, Bailey and Nora.”

“I doubt it’s the four of them, if they’ve been hoarding pool water for generations. What else did you see when Ben took you outside?”

“Not much, really,” Lucy admitted. “It’s a city that’s falling apart. Ben said they all live in the first one or two stories of the hotels along the strip here because the heat is unbearable if you go any higher, and the sand is blowing back into the city on the edges. They try to keep the main road clear for the cars they send out, but they can’t keep up with much else.”

“Yeah, that’s what has me thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lucy had to prod Lynn when she didn’t volunteer more information. “Thinking about what?”

Lynn opened her eyes again, the strength in them outshining her weary body. “If they’ve got all the water and food they need, why they sending patrols out into the desert?”

“Why question it? We’d be dead, otherwise.”

“Right, but why? Just to find half-gone people like ourselves, bring us back from the edge of death with tomatoes?”

“Why not?”

“’Cause this is a dark world, and I’ve yet to see those who have helping those who have not unless they’ve got their own reasons.”

“We do,” Lucy pointed out. “We gave that family a perfectly good house with a freshwater source back in Nebraska.”

“That was your choice. And you had a reason .” Lynn’s eyes flashed, all her strength pouring into her words. “This ain’t California, little one, and don’t you forget it. These people were driving way out of their way, burning gas without knowing we were out there to save. And I want to know why.”

“Next time they offer to save my life or give me something to eat I’ll question that, okay?”

Lynn ignored Lucy’s tone, her eyes sliding shut again. “Thing is, you’ve got something to offer in return. Me, I don’t matter here. They ask you to show them where water is, you do it.”