Mindy McGinnis - In a Handful of Dust

As the days crept by, Lucy felt as if her emptiness was growing to fill all her corners, leaving room for nothing else. Worry and fear slipped away, anger and happiness following shortly thereafter. Even Ben’s ill attempts at humor could not grate on nerves that didn’t exist anymore, and Lucy floated in a cloud of nothing as the cooler breezes of fall played with the short ends of her hair once Lander set her to the witching again.

The big man’s patience was stretched. Two of the wells she had marked earlier had run dry only days after being struck, and his hands fell on her shoulders more heavily than when she had first arrived. Lucy tried to ignore the increasing pressure of his fingers on her arm as they walked the flags together and she tried to discern which veins ran deeper than others. She’d been able to make out the wild maelstrom of Lynn’s hair in the wind on top of the hotel where her rifle still rang from, and while she could ignore Lynn’s presence, she couldn’t rid her mind of Lynn’s words that had warned of danger.

“So you staying?” Ben asked as they roamed the desert to the east of the city, his arms loaded with flags dirty from reuse after marking failed wells.

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Lucy said.

“I don’t care either way what you do,” Ben said airily, striking a flag into the ground even though she hadn’t told him to. “But I know who does.”

“I’m not talking to you about Lynn.”

“Didn’t mean her,” Ben said. “It’s my dad. Every well you’ve marked has been as useful as a stream of piss.”

“Know a lot about those, do you?”

“Lynn’s mowed a path to every unreachable water tank we had. She’s earned her way, even if she’s not warming up to Dad. You were supposed to save us, but so far all you’ve done is set us to digging holes with mud at the bottom.”

Lucy snapped her stick upward, grabbing it with both hands to keep herself under control. “Oh yeah, and what about you? What do you do that’s so special?”

Ben looked at Lucy, imperious even with a bundle of muddy flags clutched to his puffed-up chest. “I’m smart.”

“Really?” Lucy slung her stick over her shoulder, finished witching for the day even if there were flags left. “That’s your big contribution? You’re smart?”

Ben’s upper lip curled and his small face contorted into a grimace so fierce that for a moment Lucy forgot she was bigger than him.

“I’ll show you. You need to learn exactly where you stand. And where I stand too.”

Dormant emotions laced through her and Lucy glared back, grateful to feel something after the weeks of nothing. “You don’t know the things I’ve been through in order to stand at all.”

A grim kind of satisfaction rippled across Ben’s eyes, and he smiled. “Tomorrow then.”

“Lucy?”

Lynn’s voice crept into her dreams, bringing visions of home and green fields. The present evaporated like the rain that never fell, and Lucy turned toward the voice, reaching her hand out before she was fully awake. The familiar touch of weathered hands brought Lucy to consciousness and she sat up quickly, a streak of fear pulling her forward.

Lynn sat at the foot of Lucy’s bed, her face a pale circle in the moonlight, her dark hair lost in the inky blackness of the room. She had one finger to her lips, her eyes cautiously sliding over to Nora’s bed.

“How did you get in here?” Lucy hissed, yanking her hand away from Lynn.

“Just be quiet and listen to me,” Lynn whispered. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Lucy pushed herself up against the headboard, knees pulled protectively to her chest. “Talk fast.”

“I’ve been watching, ever since they put me up to shooting the cats. I can see everyone and everything goes on in this town, whether Lander knows it or not.”

“I already know all this,” Lucy said in a regular voice, and Lynn shushed her.

“They still send out the cars,” Lynn said quietly. “Real normal, like, on a schedule. They go out, and they come back with nothing to show for it. Two days ago one of the cars came back way early, with passengers. They picked up three men in the desert.”

Lucy shook her head. “I haven’t seen anybody new. I know every face around here, and Nora hasn’t said anything about having patients.”

“I doubt she does,” Lynn said. “They looked healthy enough to me. Nothing wrong with ’em but a bit of sunburn and a big thirst, I imagine.”

“So where are they?”

“That’s the question. I’m asking you to keep your eyes and ears open. And be careful.”

“Careful?” Lucy’s voice rose. “Who’s to say they didn’t let them walk out of here on account of them being men? Last thing we need is more mouths to feed.”

Lynn raised an eyebrow, an accusatory black line tented in the moonlight. “We?”

“Yes,” Lucy spat. “ We . There’s no reason to think any harm was done to them, any more than’s been done to us.”

“Yeah,” Lynn said quietly, the word coming out harsh and ragged. “And what has been done to us?”

Tears sprouted in Lucy’s eyes, all the more painful for having been absent for so long. “Get out of here before I wake up Nora,” she said. “And don’t ask me to look for something to fight in every shadow that crosses the path. I don’t want to live like you.”

Lynn watched Lucy for a moment before rising, her renewed health evident in the hard lines of her body as she stood. “I didn’t want to live like me either, little one,” she said. And then she was gone.

Ben was at her door early the next morning, a fresh bundle of flags gripped to his chest.

“Really?” Lucy picked sleep from her eye as she stood in the doorway. “I thought today was the Let’s-Show-How-Smart-Ben-Is Day.”

“Oh, it is,” he said. “But work before pleasure, Dad says. Get dressed, he’s picking us up when everything is ready.” Lucy dressed quickly, and as the two of them marched out of the city she heard Lynn’s bullets flying overhead and wondered if the ghostly conversation from the night before had only been a dream. The sun soon burned away thoughts of anything except water, and Lucy’s stick pointed sure and true, as if her own limbs were suddenly clear of confusion.

“You’re confident today,” Ben said as he placed a flag.

“I feel good,” Lucy admitted. “It helps.”

“You haven’t felt good before?”

“I was… unsure.”

“What changed?”

Lucy didn’t answer for a moment, thinking of Lynn’s stealthy conversation in the night, the heavy words weighted with dread. Whether it’d been a dream or not, it had solidified in Lucy that she didn’t want to live in fear and suspicion. Lander and Nora would never be Stebbs and Vera. But her affection for them would grow, and she would let it.

“Hello? Water monkey?”

“You, however, I will never like,” Lucy said aloud.

Ben shrugged. “Like me, not like me, whatever. After today you’ll respect me.”

Lucy ignored him, switching her stick over the dry dust in front of her. When the sound of the car engine cut through the air hours later, Lucy realized how lost in her own reverie she had been. Ben’s arms were empty, the sterile desert behind them populated by waving blue flags.

“Well done,” he said. “I’ve not seen you that involved before.”

The car pulled to a stop in front of them, sending a spray of dust into Lucy’s eyes. She shaded her face to see Lander emerging from behind the wheel, his shadow far outreaching either of theirs.

“Lucy.” He smiled at her, casting an arm behind them at the expansive waste littered with flags. “You worked hard today.”